


The Sun Never Shines in England

by nixswhiskers



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Illnesses, M/M, Mental Instability, Realism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 16:09:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10620414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nixswhiskers/pseuds/nixswhiskers
Summary: It doesn't take much for Phil to notice Dan hasn't been himself lately, his expression often reflecting the English sky; bleak, dismal, lightless. However when he turns to face the sun, his shadows fall behind him, and it seems that's the only thing that can save him. Shame it never shines in England.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Friends! Thank you joining me on my first a/n. I'll try to keep this concise as I know where you really want to be.
> 
> I just want to mention some warnings. This story is rather tame in my books, but by no means does that stand for everybody. We've all lead different lives and some things may unsettle some more than others, so I'll try my best to account for you by making an a/n at the beginning of the chapter that may contain themes.
> 
> This story is rated mature. It will include course language, angst, a degree of destructive aggression, illness, and depression-related themes and motives. Nothing self-harm or suicide related.
> 
> However, I will note that I am new to the writing works; if I have failed to label a trigger warning or included something that you deem as self-harm or suicide related, please let me know. I want you all to enjoy this as much I enjoy writing it!
> 
> As for an updating schedule, there isn't one as of yet, but if I feel the need to create one, I will. Don't forget to spread the love by voting and commenting, it really does mean a lot to me, and encourages me to keep writing for you lot.
> 
> SPECIAL THANKS to the incredible @starshinephil for the text design on my cover!
> 
> That's about it from me, check out my Tumblr if you're one of those blog freaks at:
> 
> → nixswhiskers.tumblr.com ← { fic nav now functioning! }
> 
> Hope you enjoy! ღ

\- through the eyes of phil -

"God, Phil, I'm fine. Honestly."

Dan didn't look up to meet my gaze, although I kept my eyes trained on him as he made a beeline to the kitchen. I watched in dismay as he let out an exasperated sigh, somewhat angrily flung open the cupboard door, taking out a liquor bottle and proceeding to fill up his glass.

"Are you serious?" I found myself saying, and immediately knowing what his response would be.

Dan lowered his head, the glass still gripped tightly in his hand. As if to prove a point, he threw a sideways glance at the clock, shrugged, and then downed the drink quite hurriedly.

I'd normally say drinking in the middle of the day was unusual behaviour for Dan, but as of late, it's something I've been noticing. He was constantly fatigued, and didn't want much to do with anyone. Despite living together, I hardly saw him, as his day consisted of feeding himself and retiring to his room. It pained me to see him like this, but he wouldn't let me anywhere near him. 

"Dan, its only 1 o'clock." I prompted again, quite honestly begging for an explanation to his behaviour.

However, he didn't turn around, or even acknowledge my concern. He seemed completely focused on swirling the glass in his hand. I knew it was hopeless, but I moved forward to comfort him anyway, placing a tentative hand on the small of his back.

That seemed to get his attention, however, as he suddenly turned around to face me. His expression was stone cold; his eyes brimmed with irritation. I winced – I wasn't afraid of Dan, but it took me by surprise when his usually gentle approach shifted to confront me. My stomach tightened, and I felt my heart begin to race.

"Phil, just leave me alone." He growled coldly. He dropped his empty glass next to the sink with a loud clatter and turned sharply, heading for his room. I decided not to pursue him any further; perhaps he just needed some space.

I sat shakily down at the dining table, my eyes trained on the doorway as if expecting him to make reappearance. I knew it was hopeless, as I wouldn't see him until morning. We didn't even sleep together anymore – Dan had told me it's just a 'temporary thing' because he 'needs some space'. It shook me the first time he brought up the matter, but over the past few weeks I've been growing accustomed to it.

It wasn't every night though – some nights I just couldn't stand being apart from him, and I'd nudge his door open in the early hours of the morning to find him awake with his laptop. He would look up at me when his door creaked.

"Hey you." I'd say softly.

"Hi." He'd reply dully, looking back to his screen.

I would hover hesitantly by the door, unsure if I should just retreat back to my room. It could've been that I was afraid of his answer that I never asked him if it was okay to come in, but I'd let myself in anyway. I'd perch on the end of his bed, feeling him move his legs away from me from underneath the covers.

"Are you okay?" I'd ask for the hundredth time.

He wouldn't even look up at me as he'd answer with either a 'mhmm' or even worse, a soundless, single nod of his head. It wouldn't irritate me - it just made me sad.

"Baby, you know you can tell me anything." I'd place a hand on a part of his body, reassuring him. "You know that."

Then he would look up at me, a deep sadness in his eyes. It broke my heart. "I know." He'd murmur, shutting his laptop and placing it on his bedside table. The room would now be dark, and I'd hear him shuffling to get underneath his covers. I'd crawl into the spot next to him, wishing I could stroke his hair or hold his hand, but he'd always be turned away from me. I'd be awake until I was certain he was asleep, as only then could I rest.

However, on some mornings, just when the sun has risen and began leaking through the blinds, he'd turn around to face me. Despite the morning light I couldn't make out if his eyes were open or closed, if this was just a movement of his delirious sleeping mind, or something he meant. He wouldn't make a sound as he'd pull me close to him, wrapping his arms around me, and in response I'd do the same.

"I love you." He'd mumble, so softly I almost wouldn't hear.

I would hug him more tightly and place several soft kisses on his forehead, saying it back many times. It deceived me; I thought it would all be okay when we woke up. I thought that I'd get my best friend back. I thought I'd get my lover back.

However, I could always wish on the next sunrise.

So once again I slept alone that night. I'd hear no sound from his room and I couldn't see any light from under the door, but I knew he was awake. Dan hardly slept anymore. Perhaps 2 or 3 hours a day, if he was willing. I had asked him many times regarding the change in his sleeping pattern, but he'd make up a new excuse each time. When he'd stumble into the living room in the morning, his expression seemingly searing with pain, it broke me. He'd fall onto the couch without so much as a glance at me, and appear to be fixated on his phone. I'd pointedly offer him coffee and he'd just nod his head.

He would drink it hurriedly, and then go back to his room. If I saw him again that day it'd be for a mid afternoon drink -I didn't know what Dan did anymore. None of his social medias were active. His fans were worried; they'd bombard me with their concerns on social media or during my liveshows, but I'd assure them everything was fine, and I would make up a new excuse each time. Much like he did.

\--

The cold night had become a beautiful day. The frost on the windows was hurriedly evaporating in the morning sun, and a fresh breeze brought about a sense of calm. I opened the windows that day, perhaps some fresh air will do Dan some good.

Why am I letting this happen to him I thought, for the hundredth time. Every day when he would retreat to his room, it'd seemed as if I'd failed, like I'd been given this task of fixing him and no matter what I tried, I couldn't do it. However, it left me overjoyed to see him the next day, knowing that I had yet another chance.

I have to do something, I thought to myself, But I'm out of ideas.

That's when he made his appearance. I brightened when he entered the room, as if seeing my whole world walk through the door made the sun more golden. I was engulfed in my usual sense of sheer joy just at the sight of the man I loved so much.

"Morning bear." I greeted warmly from where I was perched on the arm chair. "How did you sleep?"

"Fine." He replied bluntly, dropping onto the sofa. I knew he didn't sleep at all.

"Would you like a coffee?" I offered, making my way to the kitchen.

"Yeah, thanks."

I hummed as I puttered about in the kitchen. Upon making our drinks, I noticed we were out of alcohol. I wondered how Dan would react when he noticed there wasn't anything left to drink. I decided to leave it; perhaps he'd finally leave the house to get some.

I re-entered the living room and sat down beside Dan, handing him his drink. He took it from me gently, his distant gaze fixated on the window. He slowly, almost automatically, brought the cup to his lips and took a sip.

"Would you like to go do something today?" I offered, also bringing the mug to my lips.

He shrugged, his expression still void.

"We just... haven't been out of the house in a while." I giggled.

The sun had then suddenly risen above the building which usually blocked its light into our apartment, and the living room was bathed in gold, illuminating the weary, tired figure sat before me. He closed his eyes, and for a moment looked calm and tranquil, outlined in the sunniness he currently lacked. It reminded me of when we first met - how we'd stay up all night talking, and only realise the time when the sun would show through the gaps in my curtains. Then we'd sleep all day, but as tired as I was, I'd lie awake for hours watching how the light illuminated Dan's pretty features, and how the shadow fell on the other side of his face. I would smile at the thought of how the sun brings his freckles out, and how he hated that. He loved to think of himself as mysterious and brooding, but in reality, his curls, freckles, and dimples outdid his aesthetics. Still, the sun made him smile; but it never shone in England, so when it did, I treasured those moments. Those moments of Dan's radiant, warm, blazing sun-like smile.

Then, as I watched the sun wash over the room once more and fade behind the clouds, I found myself saying; "I miss you."

I couldn't tell if it was the abrupt absence of the sunlight or the way he had looked at me, but I suddenly felt so much colder. I couldn't read his expression, it switched between so many; his face didn't change, but his eyes held the key.

He ended up not saying anything, as I thought he would. He got up and left the room, leaving his full cup of coffee on the coffee table. I couldn't watch him leave so my gaze landed on his coffee cup, knowing I definitely wouldn't see him again today. I'm not sure if I was angry at him, or myself, but I got up and took both cups to the kitchen, pouring them down the sink. I couldn't stomach the sight of them.

As I headed downstairs for a shower, I felt uneasy at the selfish thoughts circling my mind. He's such a waste of time. He's dragging me down. As I suspected, the thoughts washed away under the calming warmth of the shower - but I was still so afraid of them; I knew that Dan needed my help, and I couldn't afford to think like that.

I still decided to make something of myself that day. I took the train to the grocery store and picked up some staple foods. As I walked past the liquor store, I paused, considering topping up our stock. It would make Dan happy. But I would only be encouraging him. I hastily walked past, ignoring the idea of what he would say or do when I got home.

On my way home on the subway, I felt my phone buzz.

From: Louise

Sent: 1:19pm

You and Dan want to catch up for a coffee? x

I smiled, it had been a while since I'd seen Louise. But as I began to type my response, I paused. She didn't know how Dan had been lately. I'd doubt he'd want to come with us, but I could offer anyway.

To: Louise

Sent: 1:21pm

Love to, I'll just check with him

I dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter, and immediately abandoned them to go find Dan. I approached his closed door, taking a deep breath before knocking twice, softly.

No response.

I turned the handle and pushed it open slowly, finding him wrapped in his quilt, which headphones in. I could hear his music blasting from where I stood at his door. Upon my arrival, he ripped them out, glaring at me like I'd offended him.

"Hey, how you doing?" I asked, leaning against the wall.

"I'm okay, what do you want?" I replied. I could sense the urgency in his voice, though I was unsure why it was present.

"Louise invited us out for coffee, you interested?"

"Oh, uh, I'm not feeling that well. Tell her I can't make it. Sorry." He began to put an earphone back in.

I wanted to be annoyed with him, but even a little of his honestly went a long way.

"You're not well? Everything okay?" I asked, finding myself taking another step into his room.

"Yes!" He raised his voice suddenly, and stopped me in my tracks. He dropped his gaze and lowered his voice. "Just tired."

"Get some sleep, babe." I told him, softening my voice as much as I could. Despite his earlier protest, I went over to him, and pulled his earphones out of his grip. "These won't help." I tossed them on the bedside table.

"Phil..." He groaned, but he didn't make a move to regain them. He just stared up at me with those soft, sad brown eyes I could hardly look at anymore. I tugged his blanket tighter around his shoulders, and leaned in to kiss the top of his head. I didn't care what he thought, I needed to feel like I was taking care of him, like I was making a difference.

"I'll be back soon." I said softly, daring to lock eyes with him again. He seemed so dull and faded. Almost lifeless. "Dan, for God's sake, take care of yourself. Eat something."

I turned to leave, but as I got to his door, I found myself looking back at him. He was still watching me, that heartbreaking expression in his eyes. I couldn't put a finger on it, but something about it made me ache. All I wanted to do was throw my arms around him and hold him until I saw that smile again, but I just didn't know how to approach him. It's like he wasn't even here anymore - his spirit was elsewhere.

"Please come with me." I asked him. I needed to get him out of the house, into the sun.

He shook his head. "I look terrible. I feel terrible."

"Dan, please. You need this."

"You can't make me go out, Phil!" The sudden heightening in his voice startled me. But I wasn't going to hide from him anymore. He needed me, and I needed him.

"Dan, tell me what's wrong." I said calmly. I felt myself ditching the filter I'd been using with him the past few weeks as I asked him; "are you depressed?"

"Fuck off." Was his only response. His bitter tone made me want to slam the door and walk away. But I could only think; how unlike him. Dan was always so gentle toward me - he may use this language towards others, but never to me.

However, I could tell that underneath the bitterness was hurt, and it was so pained I couldn't bring myself to ignore it. Though, I couldn't seem to formulate a response; all I could do was cross my arms over my chest and keep my gaze trained on him.

My heart filled with compassion as the tears welled in his eyes. I started back towards him, half expecting him to move away.

But he didn't. He just slowly hung his head, and remained deathly silent. I perched on the bed next to him, and dared to put my hand under his chin, bringing his head up to look at me. He met my gaze with bloodshot eyes, swamped in sadness.

"My God... I didn't mean..." He mumbled. I watched a single tear rush down his cheek. He hurriedly brushed it away, tucking his hands into his sweater and rubbing his damp eyes.

I wanted to comfort him, but part of me insisted he spoke as much as he was willing. I awaited a response quietly, brushing my fingers gently against his thigh.

The sun then started seeping through the window, and although it wasn't the dazzling gold it had been this morning, it still washed the dull grey room in a white light.

Dan's eyes flickered to the window, where his gaze remained before he closed them and let out a long, soft sigh, leaning forward and resting his forehead on my shoulder. I was surprised by his touch, but I stroked the back of his head as I waited for him to speak.

"I would never say that to you. I'm sorry." He finally said, his voice muffled.

"I know, Dan. It's okay." I brought my other arm around him and pulled him into my chest. "I'm just worried about you."

Dan didn't say anything, like I knew he would. I wasn't upset, through. I was so happy to have him close to me again, and I held onto him tightly.

We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us saying a word. I couldn't decide if it was the silence that was so peaceful, or the absence of the ever present tension that had lurked in all the rooms of our apartment as of the last few weeks.

However the peace was disturbed by my phone buzzing, and we both reluctantly broke apart for me to glance at it, Dan rubbing his eyes with his sleeve again.

From: Louise

Sent: 2:32pm

Any word? Sorry to bug you, I've just got a few errands to run afterwards

I filled with guilt as I remembered my earlier promise, and not getting back to her. I look up at Dan, who was pulling on a string at the end of his sleeve.

"It's Louise." I told him, although I assume he had already guessed.

"Mm."

"I understand if you don't want to go out." I tried to speak softly and gently, as I didn't want to revive the tension. "But I think it'll be good for us to get out of the house."

"I'm sorry Phil." Dan replied, the monotone of his voice telling me he had already made up his mind, and there was no way I could change it.

I couldn't be upset with him, though. I feel like we had broken down a barrier between us, and I definitely knew there was something going on in his life that was making him feel this way. I wanted to know what it was, but I didn't want to force it out of him, when he clearly wasn't ready to share. Right now, he needed rest.

"Don't apologize, love. I understand." I stood up, straightening out my t-shirt. "But please, try and get some sleep while I'm gone."

Dan looked up at me, his appearance seemed calm and still, but the trauma never left his eyes. "Okay. I'll try."

He then lay down, drawing his quilt over himself. I walked over to the window and shut the blinds, the room now void of the afternoon white light. As I walked back across the room, I stopped by Dan's side and pulled the quilt over his shoulders, planted a kiss on his temple and brushed his fringe out of his eyes.

"See you soon. I love you." I turned to leave but as I reached the doorway, I heard a very faint reply.

"I love you too."

I smiled, closing the door quietly and tiptoeing down the hall. Taking my wallet from the kitchen counter I started down the stairs toward the front door, grabbing my coat hanging over the stair railing and pausing before the door to send a quick text to Louise.

To: Louise

Sent: 2:38pm

Dan's not feeling too well, so it'll just be us. Hope that's alright haha

To which I got back an almost immediate reply as I was putting my coat on;

From: Louise

Sent: 2:39pm

Poor pet, send him my love x

I guess you'll do ;)

I was greeted by a cool breeze as I locked the door and stepped outside, making me instinctively do up the coat and dig my hands into the pockets. As I walked toward the train station, I felt something sharp and metal in one of the pockets and I curiously pulled it out.

It was Dan's house key. Confused, I turned it over in my hand before glancing down and realising that this was in fact Dan's coat, not mine, that I had taken off the banister. I grinned and dropped the key back into the pocket, suddenly feeling a little warmer.


	2. Chapter 2

\- through the eyes of dan -

Disgruntled, I blinked up at the ceiling. I don't remember falling asleep. I don't remember waking up. I hesitated to check the time on my phone, thinking it would only be minutes passed since Phil left.

Curiosity, however, eventually got the better of me and I glanced at the screen.

4:30 - I'd slept for almost 2 hours. Possibly the longest I've slept in weeks.

I sat up on the edge of my bed, my feet brushing the carpet. I groaned. My head whirring, I sucked in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. My mind wandered back to seemingly moments ago when Phil had been here. His concerns still lingered in my consciousness.

"For God's sake, Dan, take care of yourself. Eat something."

"Okay," I mumbled to myself as I got shakily to my feet. "Eat something."

I wondered to the kitchen, pushing through the glass door and finding myself hovering in front of the fridge. I groaned as I opened it, my stomach churning at the thought of food. However, I knew Phil wanted me to at least try and take care of myself. This was the least I could do for him, after all he's done form me.

I scanned the contents of the fridge, nothing in particular catching my eye. I grunted with distaste as I half shut the fridge door, drumming my fingers where my hand rested. I studied the rest of the kitchen, my gaze landing on the glass door of the liquor cabinet.

Instinctively I approached it, the action feeling painstakingly familiar to me as of the last few weeks. I took out the first bottle that caught my eye and placed it on the counter, taking a glass from the shelf and proceeding to fill it, my motions fluid by this point. Phil's concerns rang in my ears before they subsided in the back of my mind as I downed the drink.

It washed away all too quickly. I sighed as I felt the burn in my mouth and down my throat, the warmth and tingling sensation spreading across my chest.

"There, I took care of myself." I mumbled to myself as I placed the bottle back in the cabinet. I moved to drop the glass in the sink, noticing Phil's breakfast bowl and spoon resting there too.

Guilt then suddenly emerged from the recesses of my emotions, ravaging me from all sides. There should be two bowls there, not one. I thought. He's alone in a house he shares with someone. It's a wonder that he's still here after all I've put him through.

I felt my mind spiral. I had to get a grip on myself, I knew I had to change. But every time I had tried, I'd faltered. The pain of failing myself over and over had driven me to fear even trying. The thought of falling short of normality, even one more time, terrified me. I'm not sure I could face myself if I was to fall again; there's only so much faith one can lose in oneself.

I collapsed onto the sofa, telling myself I was simply waiting for Phil to get home to distract me from my the toxic thoughts churning in my mind. I scrolled aimlessly through social media, feeling pained at the thousands of mentions and tags asking after me. I suddenly felt the anxiety crawling in my gut, the familiar sickening feeling unearthing itself upon me. I dropped my phone into my lap and stared across the room at the window.

That's when I noticed the late afternoon sunshine sprinkled throughout the living room, dotting the walls and floor with specks of white light. It danced across the fabric of my sweater, washing onto my chest, shoulders, and then my face. I closed my eyes and felt the warmth seep through my clothes, through my skin, into my bones. Could it touch my soul? I wondered.

I felt my mind begin to wander. Usually, I was afraid of this. I found it liked to circle in an infinite, vicious cycle, hitting all my pressure points along the way.

Yet I found myself sinking into the sofa, allowing my thought to do as they will. Perhaps the sunlight acted as a set of blinkers to my fears. It seemed to take over me as I felt myself being pulled backward through a wormhole of time; an escape from the present. 

The wormhole took me back to the very day I had met Phil, and all the feelings that had accompanied it. The thrill in the moments before I saw him, the unease of the idea that he wouldn't be everything I'd known him to be, the sheer delight at which he was more. I remembered feeling overjoyed in his presence, safe in his arms, lost in his eyes. His eyes. So much bluer than I ever could have dreamed.

I felt myself smiling. It was like a sweet dream, the ones you have in the early hours of the morning, just as the sun is rising, the ones you remember so vividly you could paint a picture with explicit detail. The ones you tell your friends of, but no matter how many details you include, you cannot seem to enrapture them in the pure essence of it. It doesn't cause you any grief, however, as you know it's because the dream is meant for you and no-one else.

It was a cold day when we had met, the autumn winds much colder than we'd anticipated with only our windbreakers. So we'd stopped at a nearby soup kitchen at the foot of a old brick building, and walked away with a cup of pumpkin soup each clutched in our hands. Seasonally appropriate, we'd thought.

I'd only realised how deep I'd gone into my own mind when my text notification drew me out of it. I shook myself, feeling an ironic sense of annoyance at the thought of someone disturbing my rest. I'd have fallen asleep if it wasn't for-

From: Phil

Sent: 5:01pm

Hi bear, hope you're feeling better. I'll be home shortly, want me to get something for dinner?

All traces of my annoyance suddenly vanquished when I read the message. I smiled fondly, feeling a wave of calm wash over me as I typed out a response.

To: Phil

Sent: 5:02pm

i am, thank you so much babe  
i'm craving pumpkin soup for some reason, see you soon x

\--

"Did you get any sleep?"

Phil was sat on the sofa facing me, his knees tucked up in front of him, his cup of soup teetering hazardously in the space in front of him.

"If that spills on me Lester, I swear..." I eyed the cup cautiously as I unconsciously scooted away from it, resting my legs on the coffee table and placing my cup in my lap. 

"It's fine," he assured me, glancing down at where it was balanced between the sofa cushions. He shifted to cross his legs, but as he did, the cup began to topple at dangerous speed.

"Sh-" His hands darted down to grab it before pulling his sweater over his palms to cup it in his hands without supposedly burning himself. I watched as an escapee drop of soup trickled down the side of the cup, my gaze then flickering back to Phil's with what was hopefully an unimpressed expression. However, my gaze was met with his amused one, and my stance fell apart as I broke into a grin, shaking my head in wonderment at how this man hadn't somehow critically injured himself by this point in his life.

"How are you even still alive?" I voiced my thoughts as I brought the cup to my lips, taking a sip and feeling it run down my throat with a comforting warmth. My body thanked me for finally feeding it something other than alcohol.

"Because you're here to call me out on everything I do." He answered without stuttering, and I raised my eyebrows in recognition of how correct he was.

"Anyway," he continued, disregarding ever almost scalding me, "did you sleep at all?"

I nodded, swallowing a mouthful and returning the cup to my lap. "Yeah, a few hours."

Judging by his expression, Phil wasn't expecting my answer. "Oh! That's great!" he responded, his voice squeaking with surprise.

"It's really not that exciting, Phil." I told him condescendingly. 

"It is to me, at least," he replied, much quieter now. "I like to see that you're taking care of yourself."

I looked at him as I sensed he wanted to say more, but he withheld from whatever was on his mind. Normally, I'd prompt him, but I felt as though he'd only want to ask about how I'm doing, which was a dead end conversation. He knew very well how I was doing. 

"Thanks." I murmured, tucking into another sip. I didn't like where the conversation was going, having an idea of what Phil was to say next, so I quickly changed the topic before he could speak.

"How's Louise?"

"Oh, good." Phil said. "She's a little stressed about dating, but I told her she's got nothing to worry about. I mean, she's young, beautiful, she's got her whole damn life to find somebody."

"Mm." I swallowed another mouthful. "She's allowed to feel stressed, but she needn't be."

"I sure as hell hope she doesn't settle for less because she feels like she has to." Phil responded gravely. "She deserves the best, really."

A few moments of quiet passed between us as we listened to the rain that was now falling, reminding me it was autumn once again, and subsequently, how quickly time passes. 

"I can't believe it's almost our anniversary." I found myself saying, staring absentmindedly out the window. The room was dim now, only lit by the streetlights below our window and the last remaining strands of sunlight. 

"I know! 7 years of hell." Phil replied cheekily. I shot a glance at him to find a sheepish expression on his face, his eyes sparkling with adoration. I poked my tongue out at him.

"Best 7 years of your life." I teased.

"I guess so." Phil sighed, pretending to look away in disinterest. I snorted at him before he rather unsafely tossed his now empty cup onto the table and shifted closer to me, tucking himself into my side. He proceeded to rest his head on my shoulder, entwining his fingers with mine. 

"You're the best thing that could ever happen to me, and ever will." He murmured softly, squeezing my fingers. I burned with happiness, smiling down at him while he was transfixed on our hands.

I finished the last sip of my soup and placed the cup down on the coffee table, turning onto my side so I was facing Phil. I fitted my free hand on his upper arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I admired him for a moment before speaking. 

"And I don't I know it." I added, my voice soft and dripping with affection.

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to mine, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. For a moment we didn't say anything, just allowing the sound of each other's breathing to fill the room. It was such a calming, almost ataractic feeling as for a single moment every inner turmoil and crushing thought that circled viciously in my mind had evaporated, and all that was and ever will be was this moment.

I placed a single soft kiss to his lips, because an attempt to say thank you for everything he's ever done for me was beyond what words could encompass. His fingers traced the back of my neck, sending pleasant shivers through my core.

It felt so good to have him back in my arms, although the irony of it stood out to me as I knew I was the one who'd been pushing him away. He had always been there for me, even when I'd cursed at him, ignored him, and denied his concerns for my own health. He didn't deserve that, I knew that the whole time, but I was just too cowardly to get a grip on myself.

If that earlier moment in the sun had taught me anything, it was that I shouldn't be so afraid of my own mind, for it held more beautiful, pleasant memories and thoughts than it did dark ones. And each memory has something to do with Phil, I couldn't think of a single one without him in it. It seemed pathetic, but I couldn't help it, he was the light of my life. 

"Let's go to bed." Phil's deep voice drew me out of my thoughts, and I found myself buried into his shoulder, my eyes shut heavily, longing for sleep.

"Okay." I mumbled sleepily, getting to my feet. With one hand laced in his, I followed him down the hall and into the bedroom. I waited as he changed into more comfortable clothing, and shot me a glance when he noticed I'd crawled into bed without changing mine.

"Aren't you going to change?" He grinned. "Or not, cause you're still in your pyjamas from last week."

I laughed distractedly. "Right again, Philly." 

I pulled the covers over myself, patting the bedspread to encourage him to lie next to me. He folded his glasses and put them on his bedside table before shifting to get comfortable. He lay on his back, then turned onto his side, readjusting his limbs several times. 

"Oh my god, just get comfortable, would you?" I groaned, propping myself up on one arm as I watched him squirm around in the sheets.

"I... can't..." he grunted as he turned over once more. He lay still.

I gave an exasperated sigh, lying back down on my pillow. My eyelids fluttered shut, and I let my mind numb to the prospect of sleep, allowing the drumming of the raindrops rock me to sleep... 

"Oh, Phil!" I groaned, as I felt the bed tremor as he turned over once again. "For the love of- come here."

I pulled his body against mine, tucking his head under my chin and wrapping my arms tightly around his middle. As he squirmed playfully in my grip, I fastened it even tighter, suppressing my giggles. 

"Let me go!" He cried, but couldn't hide the amusement in his voice. 

"Never." I teased. He suddenly relaxed in my arms, and I let go of him upon feeling the weight of his body go limp. I smirked down at him as he pretended to have been suffocated. He even made the effort to have his tongue hanging out, as dead bodies apparently do.

"Hmph." I grunted contently, pushing him back to his side of the bed. "At least now I can finally get some sleep."

I turned over, facing away from him, not being able to wipe the smile off my face. It felt beyond good to have my best friend back.

"You killed me, and you're not even sorry?" I heard Phil's voice sound behind me. I grinned, as I'd been just waiting for him to retort. 

"Is that a ghost I hear?" I asked dramatically, looking around the room. "Dead people can't talk!"

"I've got nothing." Phil laughed, his bubbly giggling music to my ears. I grinned at him, turning over so I was facing him once more. His eyes were so bright even in the fading light, his smile tying all of his features together. He brought a hand to his face as his giggles subsided, looking expectantly across at me through his lashes. I felt a twinge in my chest; I needed to come clean with him.

"Hey, Phil?" I asked suddenly, and it seemed to take him by surprise. 

"Yeah?"

My thoughts were racing with ideas of how to be honest with him. Thanks for not leaving me. Thanks for your unconditional love. You didn't deserve a single thing I did to you, yet here you are, lying next to me. 

"Thanks for buying me soup."

That's it?! After everything he's done for you-

I couldn't finish my train of thought, as Phil had suddenly entangled me in his arms, holding me so tightly to his chest I could hear his heart racing. I reciprocated by wrapping my arms around him too, but he held me there so tightly for so long I was beginning to wander what was going on with him. I untangled myself from the embrace to find his eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm just so glad to have you back."

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, pulling the bed sheet up to half hide his face, as though he was ashamed of showing emotion in front of me. If anything, I was the one feeling the emotion, which seemed to only be immense guilt. I had caused him so much more grief than I'd ever imagined. At that moment, I swore to never, ever, let that happen to Phil again. I could fake it, hide it, or perhaps just get a fucking hold of myself, but I never wanted to make him feel like that again. 

So I just took him in my arms and held him there. I said nothing, and neither did he. The rain eventually subsided and left a quiet, peaceful night in place of it. I blinked up at the ceiling, my mind spinning, for hours, until his steady breaths told me he was asleep. I eventually felt myself drifting off, but I couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. It consumed me.


	3. Chapter 3

\- through the eyes of phil -

I'm not quite sure when it happened, but at some point in my lifetime, the beeps and buzzes that rang from the Starbucks kitchen had fallen into part of my everyday life. It didn't even bother me as I sat in a window booth, a cup of warm coffee between my palms, soaking in the warm autumn sunshine that filtered through the window, across from the bubbliest, most eccentric woman I knew.

"So yeah, that's how I confused my child with a Taiwanese monkey."

Louise beamed at me, and I couldn't help but give a hearty chuckle. Her stories always helped to brighten my day. 

"Mother of the year." I said sarcastically as my giggles subsided. 

"Shut up." She hissed playfully, reaching over the table and batting my arm.

"I'm only joking." I managed between spurts of laughter. "I'd never be able to do what you can do."

Her expression softened and she gazed at me admiringly, however soon replaced by a wave of sadness.

"It'd be a hell of a lot easier if there was someone else." Her gaze trailed down to her mug in her hands. 

I placed a hand fondly on her arm. "There's so much time yet." I told her gently. "You're going to meet so many amazing people in your life. Isn't that exciting?"

Her eyes found mine again, the familiar sparkle starting to return at my encouraging words. I offered her a reassuring smile. 

"I suppose. But maybe it's not them, it's me- I feel like I'm not likeable."

I stared at her in disbelief. 

"Louise," I told her seriously. "I hate people, but I love you."

I paused as she giggled at this, clearly flustered at the compliment. I waited until she retrained her eyes on me before continuing.

"If someone as people-repellent as me can love you, it'd be easy for anyone else to." I grinned, and she smiled back at me.

"Oh Phil, I should come to you more often." She chuckled, and clearly her brief concerns had been pushed to the back of her mind, at least for now. 

"How's your man doing, anyway?" She piped up. "You said the poor thing was sick."

I studied her face for a moment. Her blue yes blinked curiously up at me, showing genuine interest and concern. Should I tell her the truth? I thought. I hadn't told anyone about Dan's strange behaviour yet, and I could always use the support. In fact, I could definitely use the support right now. And advice - if she had any. I'll take whatever I can get.

"Yeah, uhm, he hasn't been well." I began hesitantly.

Her only response was a nod to continue as she took a sip from her mug, not taking her gaze from mine.

"He hasn't been sleeping, uh, very well. At all."

"Why's that?" She asked me pointedly.

I shrugged, feeling defeated by the question itself. "I have no idea. He's up all night, all day, but I never see him. He stays in his room practically all the time."

Louise raised her eyebrows, slowly lowering her mug. "You mean," she began, stretching out her sentence. "You guys don't sleep together anymore?"

I shook my head, watching as her eyes flickered between mine in disbelief. 

"That's unlike him." She muttered finally.

"He says he needs some space." I sighed. "It's only temporary."

Louise's jaw dropped. "DAN needs space from YOU?" She exclaimed, all too loudly.

I smirked in her direction, glancing around the restaurant to see if anyone had heard her outburst. Fortunately, everyone was too involved in their own business to be worrying about ours.

"You seem surprised." I drawled. 

"Well," she retorted. "I just know that that boy is crazy about you. Always has been."

I felt warmth spread across my chest and my cheeks flush at her words. I gave a flustered giggle before she continued on, seeing her grin at my reaction. 

"That's why it seems so strange that he'd need space from you."

I nodded, feeling myself calm down at last. I swirled the coffee cup in my hands, watching as the colours fused together and I found myself thinking back to earlier, when I'd tugged his blanket tightly around his shoulders, looking down into his soft, sad eyes. His eyes never lied to me - they'd always been the key to his emotions. And in them then I only saw despair, a deep and abysmal sadness that I wished I could just rip out of him.

"Phil, honey." 

Louise's voice brought me back to the present, where I found her watching me with concern. 

"Sorry." I murmured. 

"Don't get too upset, okay? I hate seeing you down." She told me comfortingly. I smiled warmly back at her, glad she had my back. 

"I just miss him, a lot." I told her, feeling my throat clench with fear at the very words.

"You must." She replied sympathetically. She reached her hand forward and cupped it over mine. "But don't worry, really. Dan will talk to you when he's ready. He wouldn't hide anything from you."

"I hope not." I replied, feeling slightly relieved at her uplifting words. "I just don't know what to do. Am I doing the right thing?"

Louise gave a slight chuckle, and I glanced at her in surprise. It seemed unfitting of the current situation that was occurring.

"You're asking me?" She grinned. "You know Dan better than anyone. I can safely assume that you are taking the very best care of him."

"Thanks." I smiled at her, understanding where she found the humour in our conversation now.

"Just continue to be gentle and patient with him." She told me affirmatively. "It might be difficult sometimes, but he'll thank you in the end."

"You're right." I agreed, sitting up a little straighter. "I'll do that."

"I know you can handle it. But please, if there's ever any trouble," she paused to give my hand a reassuring squeeze, "I'm only a phone call away."

"Thanks. Thank you, so much." I praised, feeling overwhelmed with how much gratitude I had for her. When I'd felt almost felt like giving up, she'd given me the encouragement and support I needed.

I stood up from my booth, collecting Dan's jacket from beside me. Louise got up too, and we walked out of the restaurant together towards her parked car. The autumn wind hit me as soon as we left the entrance to the building, and I hurried to put Dan's coat on. I zipped it up just as we reached her car.

"Great to catch up with you." I told her, my voice muffled as I pulled her into a quick hug.

"You too, as always." She beamed.

"And again, thank you." I said, feeling almost embarrassed that I couldn't show my gratitude any other way.

"I'm here for you, Phil." She said, giving my arm a final squeeze and ducking into her car. "Give Dan my love."

"I will." I replied, and waved at her as she backed out out of the parking lot and pulled away. 

I turned on my heel to head in the direction of the subway station, pulling my phone out of my pocket and opening Dan's contact. I began to type a message, letting him know I'm on my way home, and then at the last second, I offered to bring something home for dinner.

I held my phone in my pocket as I sauntered along the street, feeling a new spurt of energy after Louise's encouragement, ready to tackle whatever problems Dan has for me. This time, it'd be different. Louise was right; I knew him better than anybody, and therefore I'd be the one to make a difference.

Almost on cue, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen, reading the familiar name, feeling an entanglement of anticipation and excitement as I opened up the message. I was unsure of how Dan would respond to my affection, however the fondness of his text surprised me.

From: Dan

Sent: 5:02pm

i am, thank you so much babe

i'm craving pumpkin soup for some reason, see you soon x

Pumpkin soup was perhaps an icon of our relationship, as it'd been the very first meal we'd had together, and every time I'd had it it'd taken me back to the day I met Dan, and all the emotions that came with it. I wondered if Dan had been thinking about that day as well, and that's why he was strangely craving the food.

I nearly stopped still upon realising that Dan was craving food. The same Dan who'd hardly eaten anything the past few weeks; the same Dan who'd turn his nose up at buttered toast and fruit juice.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me, followed by a faint spark of hope. The matter was small, but it was of no less importance to that of Dan's recovery. 

I got off the subway the stop before ours, and made my way to the small brick soup cafe near our building, deciding to walk the short distance home. I embraced the chilly autumn winds, however not feeling the sting as I clutched two warm cups of soup, the heavenly smell drifting with the ebb and flow of my mind, allowing it to wander.

\--

It was like putting on my glasses in the morning and being silently amazed at how much sharper and clearer the world seems than moments before - being able to read and understand Dan.

It was almost like he'd been mentally cleansed, too, as his expression was so much softer, his eyes brighter, and he even smiled every so often. I almost couldn't contain my happiness; the thought of dealing with yet another night without him by my side struck inexplicable feelings within me. I was so glad that he was not quite, but at least slightly, back to himself.

"I like to see that you're taking care of yourself." I'd decided to be honest with him. I wanted to say more, I wanted to tell him how proud I was of him that he'd slept and eaten today, I wanted to engulf him in my arms and kiss him hard and make up for lost time - but I knew he wasn't fully back yet. He was on the mend, and I had to tread lightly from here, so I let him speak next. 

"How's Louise?"

Our conversation milled about Louise's personal life, until we've both fallen silent upon agreement, listening to the rain fall. I couldn't take my eyes off Dan as his expression almost seemed to relax even further, his eyes trained on the window, his skin bathed in a dull, calm grey light.

"I can't believe it's almost our anniversary."

I nearly choked upon hearing his words. I'd expected him to remain quiet for some time, and I'd been settling into the sofa, trying to think of what to say to him next, but falling short as I was transfixed by his softening expression. For him to say something like that; it'd picked me up and shaken me by the metaphorical collar.

"I know! 7 years of hell." I teased, although not certain if it was the best option, but trusting that he'd play along. I gazed at him, awaiting his response.

"Best 7 years of your life." He shot back me.

I grinned, glad that he hadn't turned from that risky move. It'd been going out on a limb, but humour had always made him feel comfortable, and I got the feeling he hadn't fully anticipated saying what he did.

"I guess so." I sighed, continuing to tantalise him, however not remaining distant for long as I tucked myself into his side, my heart soaring as I felt him relax into my embrace. I rested my head on his shoulder, and worked to entwine our fingers, seeping in the warmth from his body.

"You're the best thing that could ever happen to me, and ever will." I'd decided to reassure him, just to remind him how much I am in love with him. I clasped his fingers, hoping he understood just how much I cared.

I felt him lean forward, place his cup on the table, and turn to face me. I could feel his warm breath as he squeezed my arm and let his gaze wash over me.

"And don't I know it." He added, the affection in his voice making my heart race.

I wasn't going to deny it, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He'd been drinking again, probably instead of eating, despite my request. But I didn't say anything. Aside from that, he's been doing so well just today, and I didn't want to discourage him. Neither did I want to ruin this moment; I just wanted to be close to him.

I pressed my forehead to his, my heart racing at the touch. I didn't dare move, wanting nothing more than to hold onto this moment forever, breathing him in amongst the medley of his heartbeat and the rain falling outside. 

I then felt Dan stirring in our interlocked embrace, but it didn't disturb the moment. I found his his warm, soft lips press delicately onto mine, and in response I reached a hand behind his head, pulling him closer to me, running my fingers through his hair and across his skin. He radiated warmth now, and I soaked it in, feeling it buzz from my head to the tips of my fingers.

His lips drew reluctantly apart from mine and I felt his head fall heavily onto my shoulder. I could almost feel his mind racing, and I took pity on him. I knew what it was like to think until you feel like your head was going to implode, and I wouldn't wish that upon anybody.

"Let's go to bed." I decided, sensing his growing sleepiness as his breathing slowed against my shoulder.

He raised his head, seeming slightly surprised that he'd found himself in that position. He agreed sleepily, and I laced my fingers with his and lead him down the hall and into the bedroom.

\--

Confusion swamped me, making my head spin. It was still night time, yet I I'd been somehow drawn from my sleep. I couldn't work out why, as the room was dark and quiet. I propped myself up on one arm, blinking rapidly, willing my eyes to adjust to the low light so I could find the culprit that disturbed one of the most deep and peaceful sleeps I'd had in a long while.

Suddenly, the sound of glass on tiles filled the apartment. 

I jumped in fear at the sudden noise, trying to pinpoint where it came from. I was still disoriented from my sudden awakening, but I could tell it'd come from outside the room, somewhere along the hallway. Alas, I couldn't think of what was happening, or why.

My mind turned over and I made the assumption there was a burglar in our apartment. Why they'd chose to rob ours and not another, richer neighbours' I couldn't decide, but I felt now wasn't a necessary time to have that debate. 

"Dan!" I hissed, turning over in bed, deciding it was best to alert him. 

However when my eyes adjusted to the darkness on the other side of the room, I found his side of the bed was empty.

"Shit." I murmured, my stomach sinking. Whatever was happening outside my room, Dan was involved. It couldn't be good. Glass smashing somewhere in your house in the early hours of the morning was never, ever, good. 

Oh, how I wish it was just a burglar.

I got reluctantly out of bed and found my way to the door. I pulled it open slowly, but finding nothing on the other side. Reassured, I crept further into the hall, and rounded the corner to the kitchen.

The light was on behind the glass door. I couldn't make anything out from where I was standing, but the dread only got worse as I grew closer. I sucked in a deep breath before I pushed the door open, my stomach dropping through the floor at what I saw.

What I'd assumed to have previously been a glass bottle now littered the floor, smashed into tiny pieces. The tiles were swamped with some sort of liquid, presumably liquor from the bottle that'd been broken. Everywhere I looked, there was destruction. The room reeked of alcohol as the substance bubbled against the edge of the counters, and my eyes followed it to the source of its destruction, dripping from the wall.

However, none of this bothered me in the slightest. My whole being was trained on Dan, who was crouched in the corner of the room, his shoulders softly shaking.

They say in times of great fear, your body decides to fight, or take flight. Mine did neither, even though I'd never been more scared in the entirety of my life. I felt rooted to the spot, my muscles forgetting how to work, my lungs forgetting how to take in air, worst of all, my brain failing me at what to even do next. It seemed like hours passed before I could even manage one meek, pained little whisper.

"Dan..."

The only form of acknowledgement he showed was shrinking further into himself, seemingly infinitely smaller in the room that felt to be growing in size. All of a sudden, I remembered how to function, and I raced over to him, my heart pounding, ignoring the glass that stung my socked feet.

"My God, Dan..." Although I could move and breathe again, I couldn't even begin to process my words. It seemed neither could he, as the muffled cries he made into himself said;

"I didn't mean for... I'm sorry, I didn't want..."

"Shh, quiet now. It's okay. You're okay." I told him, feeling relieved that my sense of direction had returned and my head had stopped spinning.

I kept telling him the same thing over and over, ignoring his interjections of his repeated sentences. I worked to quiet him, until he stopped speaking, and looked up at me. 

I almost got lost in the depth of his eyes, a deeper sadness and fear in them than I'd ever seen before. It frightened me, but it did not do justice to the relief I felt that I saw that he was all still there. I feared he'd have an empty, hollow look in his eyes, too far gone even for me to save him, but I was comforted with the fact that some of him was still there, at least. It gave me hope.

"Come with me." I told him, helping him shakily to his feet, although stopping abruptly upon fully noticing the state of him.

"Jesus Christ, Dan." I couldn't stop myself as the words spilled out, my stomach churning at the sight of his bleeding hands. I took them in mine, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping onto my skin, just withholding myself from freezing in horror. 

"Did you do this?" I began, looking up at him only to find he was starting down at his trembling hands, his expression pained.

Dan couldn't seem to find the words or even an appropriate response, but I needed an answer from him, now. I felt the urgency twist sickeningly in my gut.

"Dan." I tried again, this time his eyes shot up to meet mine, glazed with fear, but I pressed on. 

"Did you do this to yourself?"

He shook his head warily. He seemed to have found his words again when he eventually spoke up. 

"No... uh, the glass... It just happened, I don't know how... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"It's okay." I told him, not resisting the urge to pull him closer to me in reassurance. I had heard how shakily each word had stumbled out of his mouth, like he couldn't control what he was saying, afraid to even open his mouth as he'd make himself prone to the endless flow of words he couldn't process.

But it seemed now that I'd made him speak, he couldn't stop.

"Phil! Oh my fucking God, what have I done? This is such a fucking mess!" He cried, his previous mumbles and near-whispers well behind him, as now his cries would crescendo with every word he spilled.

I tried to interject and cut him off, but he wouldn't listen to me. He kept stumbling over his endless apologies, gaping in awe at the destruction he'd caused, violent sobs still shaking his frame all the while.

I didn't want to raise my voice, but it was the only way for him to hear me above his own. 

"Dan! Get a hold of yourself!" I exclaimed, clasping my hand to his jaw, and upon being forced to look me in the eye he became submissive, his mouth left gaping at me.

I felt a slight pang of guilt at raising my voice with him when he was in such a fragile state, but the feeling was softened with relief as I felt him come to his senses. I dropped my hand from his jaw back down to his hands, and lead him out of the kitchen.

"Watch the glass." I mumbled as we waded through the mess, being extremely careful not to let Dan step on any. He was following me blindly, appearing to half-hazardly avoid the shards of glass.

Once we were out of the kitchen, I lead him silently through the hallway and down to the bathroom, turning on the hot water tap and sticking a hand underneath it until it was warm.

I shot a glance at Dan, who just by looking at him, I could tell he only felt guilt and remorse. I noticed his tear streaked face has started clear, an unreadable expression painted on it instead.

"This will sting a bit." I told him, taking a wrist firmly and pushing it under the running water. The blood washed off quickly as I worked to clean the cuts with a cloth, Dan drawing sharp breaths every time I touched a particularity deep one. He didn't resist though, which made it a whole lot easier on me.

As I'd finished cleaning both of his hands, I noticed that the cuts weren't deep, there were just many of them. They'd even stopped bleeding, or it had at least slowed, in the time I'd taken to get him down here and wash them.

I gently patted them dry with a hand towel, looking up into his eyes. They were pools of murky sadness, the need for love and support, with ripples of remorse occasionally passing through. His sudden quietness had me confused as to what to say to him next, but I needn't speak at all.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

His face crinkled in defeat as he leaned into me with a lot more weight than I'd anticipated, but I held my ground, fastening my arms around him. 

"Come on, you. Let's just go back to bed." I told him gently, feeling him tremble against my chest. "You'll feel better in the morning."

My heart ached with sympathy as he didn't, or rather, couldn't move, stuck trembling against me, his body wracking with soft sobs. I brushed a hand on his back, feeling my own tears welling up. 

What could be troubling him so much? I thought. Poor thing, he doesn't deserve any of this.

His weight was almost crushing me against the counter, but it couldn't bother me. I felt as if my only purpose in this moment was to hold him, to not speak or even breathe, but just to hold him and comfort him. And I did just that, feeling his tears dampening my shirt.

We stayed like that for a long time. I couldn't perceive how much time had passed when I felt like my mind had done a full circle, and found itself back in the situation in the room again.

"Oh, baby." I murmured comfortingly, the sympathy in my voice muddled as it shook. "Dan, baby, talk to me."

My gentle approach had seemed to finally work, as I felt him stir in my arms and lift his head. I gazed at him, tilting my head, awaiting him to say something. Anything. I couldn't stand it any longer, I needed to find what has been causing Dan all this grief - particularly what had caused him to go on a bottle-smashing rampage at 4 in the morning - and kick its ass.

Dan opened his mouth, his words failing, coming out in shuddered breaths. Yet I nodded my head reassuringly, encouraging him to try again.

I waited patiently for several minutes, and the silence was so prominent that I began to give up hope that he was ever going to be able to share this, whatever it was, with me. 

But of course, as I was on the verge of just leading him out the door and back up to our bed, he spoke. His voice was low and raspy, a near-whisper, and I had to strain to hear him.

"She doesn't deserve this."

"She?" I prompted, knowing I needed more than that to understand what had been so deeply traumatising for him. "Who's she?"

"My mum." Dan answered, his voice strained with emotion. I felt myself begin to panic. I hadn't fully prepared myself for Dan to give me such an upfront answer, and I definitely wasn't ready to hear his elaboration of it.

"My mum has fucking cancer."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER NOTE:
> 
> I know NOTHING about Adrian. I had to do a bit of research just to find out how old he is (and from what I gathered, he's 6-7 years younger than Dan, so that'd make him 19-ish in this story). So if I'm incorrect about something regarding his life (or for the matter, any of the Howells' lives) I'm sorry, I don't know anything because I feel wrong 'stalking' him, as Dan has kindly advised us to 'fuck off, and don't be a stalker' and u gotta respect peoples' boundaries, folks.

\- through the eyes of dan -

I could tell it was going to be another one of those nights from the moment the rain stopped and I was left with quiet. Perhaps the only thing that kept me grounded was the sound Phil's breathing next to me, unbelievably comforting after so long without him - but I was still vulnerable to my own thoughts.

It didn't help that my insomniac mind refused to censor any of these thoughts, and that let to my imagination roaming more freely than I would have liked. Although I often found these times when I couldn't sleep a great opportunity to harness my unfiltered creativity and brainstorm ideas for new videos, right now I wasn't in the right mindset to even consider my job.

I couldn't stop thinking about my mum.

I sighed unhappily, rolling from my back onto my side to face Phil, who dozed peacefully in the crook of my arm. I blinked down at his sleeping form, feeling fresh waves of guilt crash over me. I needed to tell him what was going on, and I should've done it a long time ago. 

But it's not like I can just bring it up, heavy stuff like that doesn't come up in everyday conversation. I mean, he would gladly listen if I sat him down and told him, but I don't think I could even admit the fact to myself, let alone tell someone else. It was almost as if talking about it somehow made it more real than it already was.

Still, he deserved to know. He deserved to know what the fuck was causing me to act like a total dick towards him the last few weeks, and perhaps, if I was so lucky, he'd understand and forgive me. I didn't expect him to though; I didn't even understand, or forgive, myself. 

I turned my stare back up to it's usual spot on the ceiling, my thoughts continuing to churn in my head, my mind running in circles, yet going nowhere at the same time. 

I shut my eyes tightly, willing myself to just pass out, as every second I spent awake was torture. I kept them closed and told myself the next time I opened them, it'd be morning.

Time didn't get very far though, as I was suddenly disturbed by my phone buzzing loudly on my bedside table next to me. I snatched it off quickly, feeling it buzz several times, throwing a quick glace at Phil to make sure the sound it didn't wake him. Who the hell calls at 4 in the morning? I glanced at the screen, and upon reading the name, my heart almost came out of my throat.

Adrian.

I instantly assumed it must be about our mum, why else would my little brother call me at this time, and my finger hovered over the decline button. What if something really bad had happened? What if she'd gotten worse and been taken into emergency care? What if she'd had a seizure or a stroke or... she had died? I almost didn't want to know. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

However, I found myself carefully unravelling myself from Phil, careful not to wake him as I climbed out of bed, ducking outside the bedroom door before answering.

"Adrian, what's wrong?" I whispered anxiously, tiptoeing further down the hall and into the kitchen. I leaned against the counter top, crossing my arms over my chest, my forehead wrinkled with anticipation. 

"Hey, Dan." His voice sounded raw, like he'd been crying. I knew that voice too well. I felt my throat tighten; I wondered if I was even going to be able to get a response out.

"Did I wake you?"

"No," I managed to choke out, "I couldn't sleep."

"You too, huh?"

"How could I?" I said sourly, not angry at my brother, but the fact that we'd both been sleep deprived from presumably the same cause.

"Mm." Adrian murmured in response, and the line was silent after that. I drummed my fingers on the counter top, wanting to ask why he was calling at this hour; mainly if there was anything new I should know.

"Have you seen her lately?" I found myself asking, considering hanging up the moment the words left my mouth, because I didn't want to hear his answer.

"I went and saw her a couple days ago, actually." He replied, his voice laced with sorrow.

I nodded, then realising he couldn't see me, I prompted him. "And?"

Adrian didn't respond for a moment, likely choosing his words carefully. When he did answer, it was like he was tasting each syllable with his tongue as he said it; a long, slow-burn response.

"She looks old and frail."

"So, no different then." I replied, referencing back to the last time he'd told me about her.

"You should come see her, Dan. I think she'd like that."

I sucked in a deep breath. Adrian didn't know what he was talking about when he said things like that; it was him who'd always been mum's favourite, not me. I managed to calm myself down though, not wanting to quarrel with him with everything that's going on.

"I know I should, it's just hard to find the time." I told him. I didn't mention that I didn't think I'd be strong enough to look her in the eye without falling apart.

"I know you're busy, but try to come soon," He said, almost pleading with me now. "Okay?"

I frowned. Adrian wasn't one to show his soft side with me, but his voice had sounded almost desperate. It must be hard for him, being so close to our mum and having her suddenly taken away from him. I needed to show some compassion for his sake, even if I was scared shitless about the whole thing.

"I will, as soon as I can." I told him sincerely, and I heard a sigh of relief on his end. 

"Thanks, Dan. I-I'm sure she'll be happy to see you." 

The stutter in his sentence told me it wasn't just our mother that wanted me to come and visit - I believe he really needed me, too. I felt another pang of guilt as I thought about how selfish I'd been lately, with Phil, and especially my family, considering they needed me at this time.

"Will you bring Phil, too?" Adrian's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I blinked rapidly in an attempt to refocus my attention on the conversation. I smiled when I registered his bright and hopeful tone. Phil and Adrian were a pair that you wouldn't think to get along, considering their significant age difference, but they really did.

"Maybe." I replied at last. "I'm not sure; I haven't told him yet."

"You haven't?" Adrian gasped, his slightly accusative tone surprising me. "Why not?"

"It's not something that just comes up, Adrian." I growled, feeling the strange need to defend and justify my selfishness.

"Well... you should. He's family to us too, you know."

It was nice my brother and parents considered my boyfriend as part of the family, but I didn't feel myself getting sentimental. I pushed off the counter and strode over to the window, staring into the bleak and lightless night sky. 

"I will tell him soon." I said, my voice monotone.

"Good." Adrian sounded slightly reserved now, almost hurt that I hadn't felt flustered at his compliment earlier. I felt guilt phase through me, but it didn't reduce the sting on my words.

"You shouldn't sticking your nose into my relationship, anyway."

Hearing it back, I decided it sounded incredibly stupid, as Adrian made a valid point and was only trying to help. But it didn't matter now, I'd said it, and he'd heard it.

"Jeez, Dan, I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, well, leave it alone." I snarled, almost shocking myself with how much venom was in my voice. I couldn't decide where it'd come from.

"Dan," Adrian started, and this time I managed to withhold myself from spitting at him for no reason. "I really need my big brother right now, and you're kind of being a dick."

I sighed heavily, finally coming to my senses as my bitterness subsided. I hadn't meant to be so sour with Adrian, I understood what he was going through, and I was just as scared as he was. He needed me now more than ever - it wasn't often he relied on me for something - and I'd let him down. Still, I had a chance to redeem myself. 

"I know, I'm sorry." I told him sincerely, my voice trembling with emotion. The weight of all the people I'd failed recently was beginning to take it's toll on me. 

Adrian didn't respond for a while. I could hear his soft breaths on the other end, finding something to say, to forgive me or not. I braced for him to scream at me, call me awful names, all names that I deserved.

"I think we should try and get some rest now. See you soon, okay?"

I shook my head in defeat, hearing how small his voice was. Great, I thought, he'd reached out to me, and I just pushed him further away.

"Yeah. Goodnight, Adrian." I sighed. There was no point trying to fix things now; I'd already done the damage.

"Night."

He was the first to hang up, as I couldn't bear to end the call myself. I was feeling a whole rush of emotions, primarily guilt and self-hatred. I glanced out of the window again, staring into the dark night sky, knowing the sun was hours away. There was something about the endless stretch of dark velvet across the horizon that pulled me into an abyss, until I felt like I was devoid of even the artificial light in the kitchen.

There was nothing left of me in that moment, but the sickening thoughts that consumed my entire being. 

How can I take care of Adrian when I can't even take care of myself? Why am I so helpless? I'm just pushing away these people that are doing all they can to help me. That's not what mum would have wanted. I'm weaker than she is, and I'm alive and fucking healthy. She'd want me to be strong. But I'm pathetic. Weak and pathetic. I've failed my brother. I've failed my boyfriend. 

I've failed my mother.

\--

The next thing I remember was staring, past my bloody hands that were clutched in Phil's, at the label of the champagne bottle I could only assume I'd smashed on the floor, and feeling so furiously guilty with myself.

The beautiful, expensive champagne that we'd been saving for our anniversary was now pooling around our feet in a sea of broken glass, tears, and blood. What the hell possessed me to do that?!

"Phil! Oh my fucking God, what have I done? This is such a fucking mess!" The words poured out of my mouth like they couldn't get away from me fast enough. I felt my heart pulsing rapidly and the blood whirring past my ears, finding it difficult to breathe and even comprehend the situation unfolding before me. I just felt like shouting, like becoming big, bigger than myself, until Phil's voice broke its way through my distress, and put me in my place.

"Dan! Get a hold of yourself!" 

I forced myself to keep my gaze fixed on his, knowing that eventually, those endless oceans in his irises would calm me down, as they so often did. I drew deep, shaky breaths, and sure enough, my panic subsided and I came to my senses. 

I felt him leading me out of the kitchen, weaving between the glass, as I followed blindly, stumbling after him, my legs forgetting how to work. 

We walked downstairs to the bathroom in silence - although I still couldn't manage to string a sentence together, even if I wanted to. 

He ran the hot water tap, sticking my hands under it when he deemed the temperature as satisfactory. I winced as the water ran into my cuts, but felt a strange sensation of calm, watching the colour of my skin return as the blood washed off down the drain.

After he worked to clean them with a cloth, I watched Phil as he turned the tap off and patted my hands dry with a towel, holding them in front of himself. He glanced up at me and I shakily gazed back, unsure of what he was thinking. I knew I needed to say something, anything, to let him know I was still here.

"I'm so fucking sorry."

I knew the apology would never be enough, but it was all I could manage at this moment. I leaned into him, perhaps with too much weight; but the moment he wrapped his arms around me I felt myself go weak. I was relieved, so fucking thankful, that he was still here after all that I've put him through. My sobs were a reflection of this; a mixture of everything, but mostly the feeling of finally being safe from myself.

I heard him trying to get me to stand, to pull myself together, but I'd just began to crumble, feeling the pieces fall away beneath me.

If it weren't for his soft, gentle voice, all of me would have fallen away.

"Dan, baby, talk to me."

I straightened up slowly, turning to face him. My words failed time and time again, and I wracked my brain furiously to say something that would explain all of this, the weeks of isolation, ignorance, selfishness, why I'd pushed him away so many times when he'd reached out to me, why I'd destroyed our kitchen and our champagne bottle. However, the words I'd chosen to choke out weren't enough. Nothing ever will be.

"She doesn't deserve this." 

"She?" Phil prompted, concern growing alarmingly in his eyes. "Who's she?"

"My mum." It hurt so much to say it, but I needed to. I needed to do it for him.

"My mum has fucking cancer."

\--

I couldn't explain the look in Phil's eyes, not if I knew every word of every language in the universe. It remained with him for the rest of the night though, even as he thanked me for telling him, as he took me back up the stairs, as he crawled into bed beside me.

It stayed with him for the whole night where he murmured 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry' until the words became a blur, and quite frankly I was sick of hearing them; it wasn't his fault. I'd make him stop, I'd tell him he wasn't responsible for her illness, but every time I even so much as glanced at him I was met with the same look, and inexplicable weariness that I couldn't even give a name to. I'd never seen it on anyone before, and I couldn't even decide how it made me feel. 

I was too busy feeling wrapped up in my own emotions. Feeling my gut twist with guilt, anger, and remorse. I almost wanted to be alone, to stew and wallow in my own self pity and self hatred, to not poison anyone else with my toxic thoughts and behaviours. I wanted to isolate myself from the world and those who loved me because I couldn't bare the thought of hurting them again. 

But as much as I didn't deserve it, I let him hold me, because I was too scared that as soon as he let go, the floor would just crumble beneath me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was primarily meant to be a soft, fluffy chapter after all the heaviness of the last few, but I got a bit carried away at about 3/4 of the way through so prepare your eye sockets for smut. It doesn't go that far, but it might get your jimmies rustled. If you like your jimmies remaining quite calm and still, I respect that too.

\- through the eyes of phil -

I watched Dan for so long that I could trace the trail of the sunlight with my gaze as it moved over his peaceful, sleeping form, the cloud-smothered sunlight bathing his skin in a faint glow, so soft and white, like the feather of angel's wing. He emitted a gentle and calm radiance as he slept, which was so refreshing after so long of seeing him cower in the darkness of despair. 

A smile found my lips as I ran my fingers gently through his soft hair, careful not to disturb him, but wanting to touch him all the same. I tried my best not to wake him, even though I was aching for a glass of water, as I'd hate myself forever if I disturbed him now, after whatever he must have gone through last night.

And with that, the memories of last night began flooding back. Dan crumpled on the floor of our kitchen, his hands bleeding from the broken glass that surrounded him, the way he winced as I washed them under the tap, trembling in my arms, sobs wracking his frame, and worse of all, the pools of exhaustion and sadness in his eyes when he'd told me about his mum.

Right. His mum.

A fresh wave of anguish hit me all of a sudden. When I'd first met Dan's mum, I didn't give her much thought; she seemed like the ideal, standard middle-class working mum of two sons. Don't get me wrong, I thought she was friendly enough, but I hadn't had the chance to really get to know her beyond that point. It was primarily due to the fact that when Dan and I had first met each other, he would often come to visit me with him being in University, and thus I never got know his family as well as he got to know mine.

It wasn't until I'd gone with Dan to stay at his parents' house a few years ago that I'd really come to know them. I'd been nervous as first going to stay there, not really knowing what I was getting myself into, but the Howell's pleasant nature made me feel instantly at ease. I remember having long, intellectual conversations with Adrian, Dan's younger brother, finding the articulate way he spoke and his choice of words very similar to Dan himself. However the main difference between the two brothers was that Adrian shone with extroverted confidence, not in a cocky way, but in a strong and independent way, which was pleasant to see in a young man of 19. He studied music at University, and even allowed me to listen to some of his works, which had blown my mind; the Howells were vastly intelligent, in so many ranges. 

Dan's father was a lot like Dan in many ways, his introverted personality stepping in time with his son's quite often. They even looked similar in build; both tall and slender, with dark curls and deep, expressive brown eyes. He was quiet and reserved, a traditional man, but once he loosened up a bit, he was full of well-mannered humour and charming charisma.

Mrs Howell, Dan's mother, didn't have a frame like Dan or Adrian, being small and delicately built, but her face resembled theirs a lot. Aside from the blue colour, her feminine, almond shaped eyes exactly resembled Dan's, as well as her button nose and round face shape. The most astonishing thing of all, however, was when she smiled, the room would light up, and her dimples would align all of her features to look exactly like her eldest. 

I smiled fondly at the memory of realising how similar those two looked, and how their polite and caring nature complimented one another. I found Dan's mum to be a bit posh, rather proud of her well-groomed house and tasteful furniture, but her heart was so open and kind, and she was often glowing with adoration whenever the two of her sons were around.

I shook my head. Dan was right, she doesn't deserve this, not one bit. 

I refocused my attention on Dan again, my thoughts half dabbling in the similarities between him and his mother, and half admiring the way the light highlighted his features, the only shadows falling on his cupids bow, the corners of his eyes, and the hollow at the base of his neck. 

It was then he stirred softly, giving a soft moan and rolling into my chest. I smiled fondly, wrapping an arm around him as I gyrated my body slightly to better accommodate for him. I understood now that it was up to me to help him, as he'd been brave enough last night to share was was terrifying him so much. I had so much compassion for him, never experiencing anything like this myself, but using empathy to gain an understanding as what had been going on in his mind. There were times, I'll guiltily admit, when I'd thought he was overreacting on whatever drama was going on in his life, but now I felt his emotions were completely valid, if not, justified. 

I glanced back towards Dan only to find him already looking across at me, blinking sleepily as his eyes adjusted to the morning light. I smiled when I saw how rested and calm he looked, so different than just hours ago.

"Good morning." I mumbled, finding his hand under the blankets and entwining my fingers lazily with his.

"Hi." He replied, his voice low and raspy.

"How'd you sleep?" I asked.

"Mm." Dan murmured contently, and I felt him squeeze my fingers. "Quite well, actually."

"That's really good to hear." I said, not finding a way to convey how much relief I felt that he was feeling rested.

A smile tickled his features. "You?" 

"Yeah," I told him, breaking hand away from his to loop it loosely around his neck. "Alright."

The truth was I hadn't slept well at all, despite the fatigue that clawed at me as I spent half the night riddled with anxiety at how Dan was coping, if his dreams were poisoned with images of his ill mother, and thinking about how every one of Dan's previously strange behaviours made sense all of a sudden.

"That's really good to hear." Dan grinned, his tone slightly mocking, and he was clearly teasing me at how I'd been obsessing over his sleep pattern lately.

"Shush, you." I said fondly, giving him a playful shove. "It's too early to be dealing with your sass."

He giggled softly then, the sound like music to my ears, and I watched as he reached forward, over the top of me, and grabbed the corner of the quilt, hugging it to his chest and leaving mine exposed to the cold morning air.

"Hey! Give that back!" I sat up, finding a grip on the blankets, tugging them back in my direction, but with no such luck. Dan, continuing to cling to the blankets tightly, rolled away from me so I had less of a chance to find shelter amongst the cool atmosphere.

"It's freezing!" I complained, before digging my fingers into his sides and tickling him. I giggled wildly as he squirmed away from me with a sudden burst of energy. 

"Ah! Fine, you have them!" He surrendered, tossing the blankets in my direction as he jumped out of bed. He stood on the carpet, his arms wrapped around his bare chest in an attempt to stay warm.

"Hah." I poked my tongue out at him, wrapping the blankets around myself, burrito style, lying back down on the bed and peering at him through the slit in the blankets. I watched as he gave me a fond stare, before rolling his eyes and disappearing out of my line of sight.

I broke free of my cocoon to find him rummaging through one of my draws, pulling out a brightly coloured hoodie. 

"Leave my stuff alone." I protested, but he just watched me slyly as he slipped the hoodie over his head and his arms through their respective sleeves. 

He pulled the hood onto his head, tightening the draw string all the way, so that it only showed his nose and mouth. 

"I will, once you learn how to share." He murmured, his voice muffled in the material confinements. 

I giggled at him, watching as he dug his hands into his pockets and stared back at me, provided he could even see through the fabric of the hoodie. I blinked fondly, basking in his presence, feeling my heart swell with happiness that my best friend was back. Perhaps not all of him was back yet, but we were getting there.

"Now that's a promise I can't make." I admitted, climbing out of bed and puling on a jumper. "Come on, let's go have some coffee."

He followed me out of the room then, walking so close behind me that he stepped on the backs of my heels several times. I spun around in mock annoyance once we were in the hall, not even halfway to the kitchen.

"What's your problem?" I asked, seeing him giggle underneath the hoodie that still clad his face.

"I can't see anything, dingus." I retorted, unable to hide the mischief in his voice. 

"Ohh, I see." I drawled sarcastically, "If only there was something you can do about that."

I paused for a moment as he smirked, refusing to budge. I ended up loosening the hood for him, resting it atop of his curly hobbit hair instead of over his face.

"I still can't see anything." He blinked, the smirk not leaving his lips.

"Why's that?" I sighed, knowing he was about to make a terrible pun, or say something incredibly cheesy-

"Because I'm so blindly in love." 

There it is. I rolled my eyes at him, patted him on the cheek and turned away from him, heading towards the kitchen.

"You're so annoying." I told him as I walked towards the glass door. "It's lucky you're so cute or I'd- oh."

I'd completely forgotten about the mess that still consumed our kitchen, the alcohol now likely to be sticky on the floor, the shards of glass still scattered throughout.

I felt Dan come to stop behind me, peering through the glass door, and I noticed his cheeks turn red.

"Oh shit, I forgot about this." He mumbled, the teasing, playful tone now vanquished from his voice, replaced with a shameful and apologetic one.

"No, Dan, it's fine. I forgot about it too. I'll clean it all up, right now." I made haste towards our closet where we kept the cleaning supplies, but he caught my arm.

"Phil," I slowly turned to face him, feeling him slide his hand down my forearm and latch onto my fingers. "I really am sorry. For everything. For the way I treated you all this time, for hiding the truth from you for so long, for all this mess..." 

His eyes flickered back up to the direction of the kitchen, and I could tell he was distressed. I cupped his cheek fondly, finding his gaze back on mine.

"Don't apologise. I don't blame you for what's happened."

"No, you don't understand." Dan said, his voice growing in intensity. "You didn't deserve the things I did to you, I ignored you and I pushed you away; I was such an asshole, Phil."

I nodded, feeling my own chest tighten at the panic in his eyes. "Dan, all people handle grief differently. Some people process it more... inwardly than others. It's better that you didn't bottle up your emotions last night."

His sad eyes stared back at me, on the brink of tears, and I felt nothing but sympathy for him. Yes, Dan had treated me badly, but he was lost in his own grief and unaware of what he was doing, and what was important was that he was here, apologising wholeheartedly to me, right now. 

"You're allowed to feel, Dan." I continued. "Just know that I'm always here for you, I'm going to help you through this, and it's going to be okay. I promise."

He nodded soundlessly, and I felt his breathing becoming regular again, the panic slowly fading from his expression. 

"So you forgive me?" He said meekly.

"Of course. I love you." I stood on my toes and pressed a kiss to his forehead, feeling his warm breath on my neck for a moment before settling back down to look into his eyes again. They now looked much calmer, almost hopeful.

"Thank you, Phil. I love you too."

\--

It was just past 4pm and we were lazily sprawled across the sofa in the upstairs study, Dan laying on my chest as I was propped up between cushions and the back of the sofa, but our eyes were glued to the screen as we raced through an unexpectedly intense round of Mario Kart. 

When I say unexpectedly intense, I meant that I hadn't seen Dan showcase this much energy in quite a while. He practically shone with it.

"Phil, we need to team up and destroy baby Mario." 

I laughed, drifting around another corner and collecting an item box along the way.

"Right, I've got ammo." I informed him as the item box decided on 3 green shells. 

"I've got a red shell." He announced, and my eyes flickered briefly to his half of the screen to see him creeping closer to our selected target. "I'll hit him first, and then once I get the fuck out of there, you spam the green shells."

"Got it." I said, acknowledging his plan. I kept my eyes on the small red car as I sped further towards it, my finger hovering over the trigger button on the controller.

"And don't you dare hit me." Dan added, glancing up at me from where he was lying on my chest. I smiled mischievously and said nothing, resting my controller atop of his head.

"Fuck, I don't think I trust you." He said, looking back to the screen, although I could hear the smile through his words.

"Come on, you gonna hit him or what?" I prompted, the change a of subject a way of avoiding his interrogation.

"Ugh, fine." He groaned, and fired the shell, his attack right on target. Baby Mario span out of control, and took a brief moment to collect himself before starting forward once again. 

"Okay Phil, get him!" Dan said, probably too loudly as he was literally right next to me, but I slammed down the item button anyway, and watched as the green shells hurtled towards poor, unsuspecting Baby Mario. They bounced off the walls surrounding him, one hitting him square on, one spinning out of control and into the distance, and one heading straight for Dan.

"Look out, Dan!" I warned, but it was too late as the shell crashed into Dan and made him stall for a few moments before he could start again. He let out a pained whimper as I crossed the finish line moments before him.

"Phil!" He whined, turned over to look up at me. "I thought we were a team!"

I tossed my head back and laughed, basking in my brief moment of glory, as I hardly ever bet Dan on Mario Kart. Perhaps it was due to the weeks he was out of practise, but I still wanted to take a moment to gloat.

"Sorry, I honestly didn't mean to hit you!" I managed between giggles, watching his expression soften. "We still won, though!"

I gestured back to the screen, and he turned to watch it for a few moments as our characters were presented with the first and second position awards.

"I'll take a podium finish." He grinned, tossing his controller down beside him.

I did the same, listening to the voices of the Nintendo characters as they celebrated their win, looping my arms around Dan's middle. He shimmied forward so that his legs were straddling either side of me, draping his arms around my shoulders.

"We make a good team." He murmured, his voice low now that he was close to me.

I nodded, not able to tear my gaze from his. His eyes were so deep and bright, brimmed with affection and calm; a far cry from the dark, anguished expression he wore less than a day ago. My heart swelled with joy at the mere feeling of having him back in my arms, so close to me. I'd craved his touch, and the weeks that things had been so icy made me realise how much I needed him. I wanted to tell him just how much, or show for it, but I could do either when he spoke first.

"I've really missed you." His voice was a low hum, almost sensual, just enough to send a shiver through me and make my skin tingle. 

"I've missed you, too. God, like you wouldn't believe." I practically moaned. I blamed it on the fact that he was pressed up against me right now, with whatever remains of the evening sun warming us through the window, and that it had been so long...

"Have you?" Dan chuckled suggestively, leaning closer so his breath was ghosting my lips. I didn't honour him with a reply, but just sighed deeply, drawing my hands tighter around his hips and pulling him closer. I suddenly felt how heavy he was on my lap, how each warm breath washed across my skin, and how his gaze was transfixed longingly on mine. I stared down at his lips, every so often my gaze wandering upwards to observe his expression; he just seemed as eager as I.

Dan's figure was illuminated in the bright sunshine that, at some point, had began flowing in from the window. It outlined him in a pretty golden haze, the shadows casting down on his features, and sharply defining each wave in his soft, curly hair. He looked too beautiful to be here, and I felt like he must be something not of this earth; an angel. How did I deserve him?

His face had edged closer to me in these brief moments I was fascinated by his appearance, until his supple lips were pressed against mine. His mouth was so warm, and I felt each detail of his lips; so soft and creamy. I'd missed the taste of him, and I think I told him that as I let a low moan escape me. 

However, that only seemed to encourage him, as he worked to deepen the kiss, pressing harder into my mouth and tasting with his tongue, pulling with his arms behind my head to hold me closer. I responded by wrapping my arms around his middle, drawing him so close to me that he had to arch his neck to keep his mouth on mine. 

I sucked on his bottom lip, feeling it pulse heavily between my teeth. His heart was racing, and I could hear it in his short, shallow breaths. I moved further downward to plant kisses along and underneath his jawline, feeling him tilt his head to expose more of himself. I worked down the side of his neck, every so often teasing with a small nip and feeling his breath shorten in response. I came to the base of his neck, my lips trailing over the dip of his collarbone before moving upward again to pause on an area where I knew Dan was most sensitive. As I brought my teeth into it, I felt his nails dig at my back underneath my t-shirt.

"Ugh, Phil." Dan groaned, shifting impossibly closer to me. His sound, that I seemingly hadn't heard in so long, made me giddy, and I clung to him tightly. 

I then moved to tilt my body, encouraging him to slip off of me and lay on the couch. He complied, and I crawled so that I was over him, fitting myself onto him. I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling him lean into the sensation, and still working to press kisses along his neck and jaw. I slipped my hands underneath his jumper, his skin feeling warm and flushed at my touch. I allowed my hands to roam freely over him, wishing there was a way they could be everywhere at once. I leaned back for a moment to drink in the sight of him, gorgeous and flustered and bathed and the golden setting sun. 

But it seemed just as I'd soaked in the sight of him, the sun began to fade away, leaving a warm darkness that drew hooks of shadows across Dan's body. It was then I noticed his blissful expression seemed to fade, replaced with something I couldn't pinpoint. I didn't want to go on if he wasn't feeling up to it; but so far he had seemed pretty indulgent.

"You okay, baby?" I asked breathlessly.

He hesitated before answering, which was just the nod of his head. He plastered a smile on his lips, but I knew it was fake. Something was putting him off. Had I come on too strong?

I moved forward to kiss him again, this time peppering light kisses across his forehead and his cheekbones, my fingers back to tracing the familiar curves of his neck and shoulders. He was quick to relax again, and I moved down to work slower kisses on the pressure points on his neck. With one hand behind his head, I felt him tilt back in pleasure as he let out another moan, this one much louder and more reassuring.

Feeling encouraged, I took this as an invitation to grind my hips softly down on him, as if gaining his approval first. When I received a small, but reassuring, buck in response, I did it again, this time much harder. I tucked myself into him and but the inside of my lip, as despite how pleasurable the sensation was I didn't want to make a sound, in case I missed a signal from Dan. I wasn't sure if he was feeling completely comfortable, thus I was still testing the waters.

So when I pressed down a third time, much more forcefully than the last, I stopped dead when I felt him freeze under me. He suddenly moved to squirm out from beneath me, shuffling backwards and glancing up at me with some distorted form of surprise written on his face. I sat up, kneeling, my hands clasped over my mouth.

"Fuck, Dan, are you okay?" I hissed. I rarely swore, usually only in bed with him, but this time the shock had caught me off guard.

"Phil," he panted, sitting up slowly, before bringing his hands to hide his face from my inquisitive stare. "I'm so sorry. I- I don't know what came over me, I-"

He swallowed deeply, before removing his hands once more to look me in the eyes. His shocked expression then melted into one of apology, and he edged forward, resting his hands on top of mine.

"I'm so sorry, that was really weird of me." He breathed. "I just... I can't right now. I'm sorry."

I removed my hand from underneath his jumper to cup his cheek. I brushed my thumb along the arch of his cheekbone, watching as he relaxed at my affectionate touch. 

"Don't worry, love, I understand." I told him, making sure to keep my gaze deeply engaged with his. He smiled then, which was a sight for sore eyes. Seeing Dan so panicked with something that was very familiar to us both made me worry about what was going on in his mind, but all I understood now what that he just didn't feel up to it. 

Still smiling, Dan pressed a quick, apologetic kiss to my lips, evidently relieved with my empathy. As much as I wanted him, right here, right now, I had to respect that he was going through something much bigger than himself. I'd do anything to protect him, and if it meant waiting just a little longer, I'd do it in a heartbeat.

"We'll continue that sometime soon though, I promise." He murmured, the playfulness sparkling brightly in his eyes. 

I nodded eagerly, chuckling at my own fervour, and I moved my hand to behind him, drawing him into a tight embrace. 

I grabbed both controllers and dropped his in his lap, just now realising the game was still running. 

"Another race?" I suggested. 

"Alright, but watch out this time. I'm gonna get you back." He picked up the controller and changed the screen. 

I giggled, nuzzling my face into his hair and resting a kiss on top of it. "Oh, sure you are."

I glanced across the room at the now sunless, dark night sky, feeling Dan chuckle against me as he gave another witty comeback. He was still pulsating with warmth, but I relished in it. It was like the sunshine was coming from within him now.


	6. Chapter 6

\- through the eyes of dan -

Who decided that cinemas were romantic? What was it about the dark theatre, the giant glowing screen, and the smell of buttery popcorn that made it so charming and visionary? Why was it that your heart would flutter when your fingers brushed against your date's as you both simultaneously made a dive for the popcorn?

I didn't dare argue through. The cinema had been mine and Phil's primary dating venue since day dot. Something about the hushed tones and crunches of popcorn had always appealed to us; or perhaps it was just the fact that we got an excuse to become absorbed in more forms of fiction. Whatever the reason was, we find ourselves here time and time again.

Our popcorn had been demolished long ago - mostly Phil's doing - and now we sat intently watching the scenarios play out on the screen, our hands loosely intertwined between our seats. 

"What's her name again?" I whispered to Phil, leaning sideways toward him, my eyes still trained on the screen.

"Susan." Phil replied, and I shot him a glance. I watched the corners of his mouth turn up into a cheeky grin. 

I rolled my eyes at him, turning back to the screen. "You're useless." I murmured.

He chuckled softly, but didn't say anything else; he probably didn't even know, this movie was too intense for anyone to be worrying about character names.

I absentmindedly fondled his fingers in the centre of my palm as they film played on. The majority of my attention was on the film, but in the back of my mind was a tingle of warmth at the fact that things were almost back to normal. I'd been feeling so much healthier since the incident in the kitchen a few weeks ago, and it had been thanks to Phil. It continued to baffle me; how no one else would have done that for me, been so patient and understanding, been physically and mentally there for me whilst giving me my own space when I needed it. I felt like I'd be forever in his debt, always owing him for saving me. He'd saved me, again.

These budding thoughts began to flower, and I found my mind wondering away from the film on the screen to all the times when I'd needed somebody, and how Phil was always there. I couldn't count how many times he'd stopped me from doing something stupid that I'd certainly regret later, and I definitely couldn't muster even an idea of how to thank him. 

The evening playing Mario Kart in the upstairs office was something I'll never forget. How the warm sunshine filtered through the window and seeped into me; I felt like it was warming me from the inside. And the feeling of lying on him, tangled in his arms, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed - it was all so comforting. Even when he'd been kissing me and tracing his hands over my skin and driving me wild in all the right ways, I'd taken comfort in it. It just felt so right to be with him again, and I hated myself for not reaching out to him sooner. How could I be so blind? He'd been right there for me, just like he always had been, and I'd locked myself away because apparently that was easier. 

I glanced sideways at him, watching the light from the screen flicker on his face. That doesn't matter now, I told myself. What matters is that I love him and he loves me, and everything feels right again. 

I supposed he felt my eyes trained on him as he turned to look at me, his gaze inquisitive.

"Everything okay?" He asked in a hushed tone, concern briefly crossing his features. 

"More than that." I found myself saying, grinning at how cheesy it was.

Phil gave a genuine smile however, squeezing my hand from where our fingers were still laced together. 

We turned our attention back the screen, and I suddenly felt overwhelmed with everything in the film I had to make sense of since I'd been out in my daydream. 

\-- 

I stepped out of the theatre, blinking into the soft lighting, and made my way down the hallway. Phil tripped by my side, his hands in his pockets with his elbow brushing mine every so often. We discussed the movie as we made our way out of the theatre, simultaneously tucking ourselves into our coats as a gust of crisp late autumn air whipped past us. 

"I still feel like it could have used more character development." I said as we rounded a corner, heading for the subway.

"Oh, you and your 'character development'." Phil teased, glancing across at me.

I shot a glance back at him, watching the amusement sparkle in his eyes. "There wasn't any!" I proclaimed. "There was too much happening for anyone to even have a chance at developing."

Phil laughed at this. "I suppose you're right." He chuckled. "And I didn't even catch anyone's name - apart from Susan's, of course." 

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, and I absentmindedly clasped my hand around it and drew it out. "Her name was not Susan, Phil." I giggled, glancing down at my phone.

"It was! Or was it Anna..." 

Phil continued to file through the archives of his memory, but at this point I'd stopped listening. I was staring at the name on my phone, my head whirring. Somewhere in the process my legs had forgotten how to walk, and I stopped dead in the middle of the foot path, oncoming pedestrians huffing with annoyance as they weaved around me. 

"Dan? What are you doing?" Phil had continued to walk ahead before he noticed I'd stopped. He rushed back to my side, his concerned gaze trying to find mine. Eventually, it trailed down to my phone screen, and scanned over the message.

From: Dad

Sent: 9:03pm

Hey Dan, I'm in town tomorrow, could we meet up?

Phil guided me onto the side of the footpath, out of the pedestrians' way. He looked at me as if waiting for me to say something, although I struggled to form an appropriate response. When I failed to come up with anything, he rest a gentle hand on my arm.

"Talk to me, Dan." He prompted, and I managed to latch my gaze onto his. His eyes were dark with concern and urgency.

"Um, I just... didn't expect this." I managed, glancing from my phone and then back to Phil.

My Dad hadn't tried to contact me since he'd told me about mum's illness. I still remember his voice on the phone; grave, weary, almost ill-sounding. Just what you'd expect from a man telling his son that Mum has cancer. But what you'd also expect was some reassurance from the other end. I couldn't even remember how I'd responded; I think after the initial shock died down I'd just said "okay" and then he'd wrapped up the call. But since the click of the receiver, the only people in my family to talk to me was my Grandma and my brother.

So that's why I continued to gape at the message on my screen, unbelieving that after all this time, he'd finally made an effort to contact me when it was convenient for him. Asshole.

"Fuck sake." I murmured, unable to process it right now. I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, ignoring the bemused look on Phil's face. "Come on, we're going to miss the train."

I continued on our way, moments later Phil hurrying to my side. We walked briskly in silence for a while, Phil staring at that ground as if unsure how to go about this.

"So, uh, that's the first time he's tried to talk to you since..." He began breathlessly.

"Yeah." I replied sharply. Phil glanced at me worriedly, but I continued looking straight ahead. I was worried if I even so much as looked his way I'd take out my anger on him, and that's the opposite end of the spectrum of what he deserved from me.

Phil was quiet after that, even on the ride home he didn't speak much. I could almost hear the cogs of his mind churning and I wanted to dismiss this and put him out of his misery, but I bit my lip. If I said something now, I'd regret it; all I had to say were things Phil didn't need to hear.

However approaching our home, he seemed to find some array of words to say.

"He's kind of a dick." 

I blinked at him in surprise. I'd expected him to ask things like 'well, are you going to meet him?' or 'I wonder what he could want?' but to be so blatantly obvious about what he was thinking caught me off guard. Yet, it was exactly what I wanted to hear.

"Ugh! I know right?! After all this fucking time, he just messages me out of the blue." I spat, my words spilling rapidly out of my mouth. 

We reached the door to the apartment and stumbled inside, making our way up the stairs after shrugging our coats off. I stared at the message as I climbed the staircase, before Phil boldly took the phone from me once we'd reached the top and made out way into the living room.

"Relax, babe." He instructed and I obliged, falling on to the sofa and feeling him settle next to me. He'd turned the screen off and tucked my phone into his own pocket so I couldn't fixate over the physical message any longer - however it still shone clearly in my mind.

Could we meet up? What does that even mean? Go have a nice little lunch in the city and chat about current affairs? That wasn't my dad. 

"What does he want?" I found myself saying.

Phil shrugged. "You'll find out tomorrow."

I stared at him, my eyes going wide. "Phil," I drawled. "I'm not going to meet him."

Now it was Phil's turn to gape at me. "Wha- why not?" He stuttered.

"Oh I don't know, maybe because he's completely abandoned me since telling me my Mum has cancer?" I spat, not meaning to sound so bitter. I focused my attention outside the window, the streetlights mingling with the night sky.

"Dan, come on." Phil said. "He clearly needs you."

I turned back to Phil who harboured a warm and hopeful expression, adding to the atmosphere by wrapping a hand around my forearm. I gave in, his gentle approach somehow always managed to wear me down.

"I guess so." I murmured, and Phil patted my arm contently. 

"That's it." He assured, finding my eyes. "It'll be fine, don't worry."

"You have to come with me though, I can't do this alone." I sighed, looking at him hopefully.

Phil hesitated before speaking. "Are you sure I should be there?" He asked. "It's kind of your family's ordeal, I don't know if it'll be appropriate..."

"I don't care." I interjected. "You are my family, Phil, and I need you there."

That seemed to be enough. He nodded and gave me a weak smile, his hand tightening on my arm. "Alright then. If you need me, I'll be there." 

"Thank you, you're the best." I smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. He giggled softly, which relaxed me a little. I slipped my hand into his and basked in my renewed confidence and reassurance. As long as Phil was with me, I could do anything.

\--

It was one of those crisp sunny mornings I usually spent lying on the sofa with a warm beverage, blanket, and my boyfriend, feeling thankful nothing was making me go outside today. However, this particular morning wasn't going ideally well.

My Dad had to work today, but he'd taken the morning off to meet up with us - we were meeting for breakfast at 8am in a little brick cafe at the end of the street, not far from our house. It was a lovely and quaint little place, but at quarter to 8 in the morning I'd much rather be asleep.

"Ugh, I regret everything about this already." I grunted, stuffing myself into my coat pockets. I glanced at Phil, his fur-lined hood perched on his head. He didn't seem pleased with my antics, however.

"Dan, the more you whinge about it the more unbearable it'll be for both of us." He told me, his voice stern yet oddly comforting.

"I know, I know." I sighed irritability, but I knew he was right. It was nice he was even doing this for me; I should learn to be a bit more appreciative of him. 

"Thanks for coming with me." I added, a way of apologising for my earlier complaints. He seemed to accept it.

"Anything for you." He said gingerly, beaming at me. I bumped softly into his side as we approached the doors of the cafe, wiping our frosty shoes on the doormat before entering.

The heater blasted us as soon as we got inside, and we sighed with contempt as we immediately shrugged off our coats. I looked around the room, it's bare brick walls and elegant furniture giving off quaint, hipster vibes. It was rather quiet apart from a few diners scattered around the place, and the soft jazz playing in the background.

"We don't come here enough, it's so lovely." Phil hummed appreciatively.

I nodded at him, agreeing. For it being so locally friendly, we sure didn't take advantage of that. My eyes fell on the back of the room, on the man perched in one of the booths against the wall. He was absorbed in a newspaper, his glasses sitting on the end of his nose, his free hand wrapped around a steaming coffee cup. 

I glanced at Phil who gave me a reassuring nod before I started towards him. Let's just get this over with, I thought.

He looked up when he saw two lanky figures approach him. 

"Dan!" He stood up and gathered his limbs, climbing awkwardly out of the booth to embrace me in one of those father-son hugs that involved a lot of back slapping and a handshake somewhere along the way. 

"Hi, Dad." I mumbled into his shoulder. He pulled away and turned to acknowledge Phil, sticking out a hand and offering a brisk shake.

"I see you brought your friend." He said tensely, as if this came as some great surprise to him. 

I stifled an exasperated groan. My Dad was practically incapable of calling Phil my boyfriend, and always had been. Phil, to him, was my best friend, or if I got lucky he'd call him my 'special friend', which made me internally retch. I'd almost forgotten how homophobic my father was until now, where he was staring starry-eyed at Phil, bewildered at the fact that I'd bring him along.

"My boyfriend, Dad." I corrected, not caring what he thought at this point. "And yes, I hope that's okay."

"Nice to see you, Mr. Howell. I hope things are well." Phil added, earning a nod of acknowledgement from my still semi-baffled father. 

"The two of you still living together?" He asked.

I exchanged a glance with Phil. Man, he really couldn't give a shit about me, I thought. If mum were here, she wouldn't hesitate to slap him right now. 

Phil's expression told me to stay calm, and I tried my best as I heaved a deep breath, unable to hide all of the pique in my tone as I answered him.

"Yes, Dad. We have been for the past 5 years."

He didn't seem surprised by this, but vaguely disappointed. He gestured for us to settle down at the booth, falling onto one side as Phil and I shuffled in on the other. 

"Well, I guess this will apply to the both of you then."

I froze. I thought we'd just be having pointless small talk over a meal; now I got the impression that this wasn't all my dad wanted to tell me.

I felt my heart begin to race, and I couldn't focus. What else was he going to tell me? It had to be about Mum. Oh God, what the hell happened to her?!

"What are you talking about?" I wheezed, confronted with how much anxiety was in my own voice. I felt a hand rest on top of mine underneath the table, and I looked across at Phil. He steadied me, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Relax, Dan. I just wanted to talk to you about a couple things." My Dad said, clearly surprised at my sudden outburst as well. Just then, a waitress wandered up to our table and propped her notepad up, her pen poised. 

"Good morning," She greeted through her teeth, and from her dull expression you could tell it wasn't a 'good morning' for her. "Are you ready to order?"

I drew a shaky breath. My Dad nodded at us as he'd ordered earlier, and I looked at Phil. I felt incapable of speaking.

"We'll just get two cafe macchiatos, thanks." He glanced down at me. "Do you want something to eat?"

I shook my head. I could hardly stomach the idea of a drink, let alone food. Phil looked back up at the waitress with a polite smile.

"That's all, thanks."

She nodded and wandered back to the counter. I watched her go, almost wishing she didn't so she could distract my Dad from the conversation we were about to have for a little longer. However when he cleared his throat, I turned back to him.

"So, how's work going for you boys?" 

Phil answered for me. "Pretty well; we're still enjoying it!"

My Dad nodded, "good to hear, you boys have come a long way."

Phil smiled and thanked him politely, and even though we'd only been a few minutes, the anxiety tightening in my chest was getting the better of me.

"Dad," I cut in midway through their small-talk conversation. They both glanced at me in surprise, not expecting me to speak up so suddenly. I took a breath.

"What was it you needed to ask us?" The words stumbled out of my mouth; I felt like I couldn't control them. The nauseated feeling in my gut was growing and more with every prolonged pause, until I almost felt physically sick. The only thing perhaps keeping my feet on the ground was Phil, whose hand was still resting atop mine.

My Dad shifted uncomfortably, staring down at his hands. He sighed before he spoke. "Well, Mum, uh..." he began, and then forced himself to look me in the eye. 

"Mum's being moved, Dan. To London."

I blinked. "What do you mean, moved?" I was angry at him for the way he put it, making it sound like she was just a vegetable incapable of making her own decisions, or protesting others'.

"She needs further treatment, and our local hospital doesn't have the facilities, and such." He answered calmly, ignoring my sour tone. "So they transferring her to the nearest hospital that had everything she needs - and that's London."

I suppose I should be happy that she's closer now, rather than far away in a little town in Berkshire. But that meant I'd have to confront my fear of seeing her, white, frail form hooked up to drips and heart rate monitors. Hearing her speak, her voice so distant and empty, each word a struggle. And worst of all, her hollow, washed out eyes, faded and soulless. I didn't want to see her. It's only make it more real; the fact that there was a chance I might not ever see my Mum again. 

"Dan, you alright buddy?"

It wasn't my Dad's voice bringing me back to reality but rather Phil squeezing my hand again, shaking it softly. My eyes flickered to his, only to find them flooded with worry, his forehead creased in concern. 

"Yeah," I breathed, distractedly. "I'm okay, sorry." I glanced at my Dad.

He watched me for a moment, ensuring I was alright. When he felt reassured, he spoke again. "Yeah so, that'll be in the next few weeks. And she'll be staying here indefinitely."

I nodded. Just then, the waitress came back with our drinks, placing them on the table in front of us. I blinked down at my mug; it seemed so long ago that Phil had ordered these. 

"I'll be coming to London, um, as well. To, you know, be close to her, and everything." My Dad said, his voice small and meek. The look on his face told me there was more to what he was saying, and I was dreading the next words that I knew where coming out of his mouth.

"And, it'd be a really great help if... well, financially, mostly... if I could stay with you two. Not for long, I, uh, I don't know. Until she's well enough to move back home, I suppose."

I'd already known he was going to say this, so I'd already started to process it. My Dad was going to move in with me and my boyfriend. God, I couldn't imagine anything worse. I mean, sure, we had the room; but I hated even having guests over for a few nights. Imagine my Dad - living there 'indefintely' ?

"Of course, we're happy to help in any way we can."

I whirled my head around to stare at Phil. Did he just agree? To having my Dad live with us?

Phil glanced distractedly back at me. I gaped at him, unable to put my astonishment into words. He watched me, inquisitively at first, but then the realisation slowly dawned on him. 

I found my voice once again. "Excuse us, but Phil and I need to have a talk." I told him, standing up and dragging Phil out of the booth as I spoke. He nodded at me, surprised, and I lead Phil briskly to the door, stumbling outside into the crisp air. He wrapped his arms around himself, and I felt a pang of guilt for the way I half dragged him through a cafe littered with onlookers and into the cold. It didn't affect me, however, as I was still infuriated.

"What the fuck, Phil?" I began, my tone unnecessarily sour. I supposed there was a way to have this conversation in a calm, adult manner, but I was currently blind sighted by my own anger. "How can you just say yes to something like that?!"

"Dan, please-" he started, but I didn't even give him a chance.

"You could have maybe discussed this with me, first, before you agreed to it!" I felt the rush of anger pass over, but it still had one final burst. "God, Phil, you know how I feel about my Dad!"

Phil clamped his hands on my shoulders. "Stop being so selfish for once; try to understand!"

I gawked, open mouthed, at him. He was right, as he always was. I was just being the same selfish idiot I'd been for the past few weeks. 

Phil looked remorseful, however. "Sorry. I didn't mean that, it just-"

"No, no, you're right." I sighed, cutting him off. "I need to get over myself. God, I'm so fucked up, Phil."

Phil's hands slipped up from my shoulders and onto either side of my face. He locked eyes with me, blazing bright blue boring into mine. Despite the fire burning within them, they looked calm and conciliated.

"You're getting better everyday, baby." He said, his words so gentle that it made me melt a little into his touch. "And remember, it's okay to feel these things. You're valid."

And yet again, it was Phil who kept my feet on the ground, stopping me from flying off the handle. I'd lost count long ago over the amount of times he'd been the only one to hold me down when I could've easy lost myself.

I really owe him everything.

"What are you thinking?" His deep, inquisitive voice brought a smile to my face.

"How I'm an idiot and that I don't deserve you."

He smiled, the kind of smile you could see in his eyes. "You're not an idiot, Dan. You're so perfect, and I love you so much." 

I said nothing, but gazed at him earnestly, hoping my expression was enough to do his words justice. 

"I'm sorry I agreed without talking to you first." Phil said bashfully. "That was kind of stupid, but I think I just got overwhelmed."

"Don't be sorry. I'm glad you did it."

He looked visibly relieved at that, and I felt reassured that I'd said something to ease his mind. 

"Your Dad is going through a hard time, and we should do our best to help him." He continued on in the gentlest way; I listened intently. "He's really alone right now, Dan, he needs you. And I know that scares you - the whole thing scares you - but I'm going to be there every step of the way, just like I always have."

"And they say angels aren't real." I murmured through my smile. He laughed, his eyes crinkling, the waves of his laughter soft and delicate. I took him my the hand and walked him back inside, not caring what my Dad thought, sat down at the booth again and asked when he'd be moving in.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made up names for Dan's parents; mum - Elizabeth/Liz, dad - Benjamin/Ben, just fyi :3 enjoy the chapter you lovelies

\- through the eyes of phil -

I'd almost began to feel motion sick from watching Dan pace back and forth across his room. He was hunched over, staring at the carpet, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his lips in a hard, thin line. He seemed unapproachable, like he wanted to be as far away from people as possible, but he didn't seem to have a problem with me as I sat perched on the edge of his bed, or with my eyes trained on him.

He didn't speak, either; just huffed every so often when he got the edge of his room, before he spun around and paced the other way. I couldn't decide on a way to approach him, so I continued to sit and watch him quietly. Maybe he'd wear himself out.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, he made a beeline to the bed and sat next to me, our arms brushing and our thighs pressed together. He leaned on me, resting a head on my shoulder. My heart ached with sympathy, he was so worn out; physically, but more emotionally.

He let out a deep, heavy sigh, and I felt him lean even more of himself on me. I patted his thigh, waiting for him to speak; I couldn't even begin to string a sentence together, as I felt like nothing I could do or say would make a difference.

I suddenly felt his weight move from me, and I glanced at him as he turned to look at me. His eyes were sunken and heavy, dark circles underneath them that told of the endless sleepless nights he'd endured prior to this day he'd been so anxious about.

"Phil," he began, his voice tense. "Why does everything suck?"

I blinked at him. I'd expected him to ask me - for the hundredth time today - more questions regarding his dad moving in, like what the sleeping arrangements were, how we'd divide the fridge space, or how we'd split the bills. I didn't imagine that he'd ask something so weighted, and with such little context.

But, perhaps I should've seen it coming; from the way his tired, cumbersome eyes looked back at me, the way his shaking hands were tucked into their sleeves, or the way he'd timidly curled into himself. Whatever it was, I was kicking myself for not recognising how melancholy his current state of mind truly was.

"Dan, that's not true. You know that." I started, wary of what I said. I had to be careful here; I was treading on the fine line between pulling Dan out of this, or sending him spiralling down further.

I stood up, reaching out my hand to encourage him to do the same. He took it warily, the dampened expression in his irises briefly replaced with one of mild curiosity. 

I lead him over to his window, standing in the little pool of midday sunshine that was filtering through the clouds. Still with his hand held in mine, I lifted my other to point at the trees down below.

"Those trees, they don't suck." I told him, tapping my pointed finger on the glass. "They're making air for us and giving the birds a place to sleep - and they do it all for nothing."

I turned my head to look at him. His eyes fluttered from the tress outside to my gaze, and I could tell he was absorbing each word I said. He looked invested in what I was telling him; I took my chance.

"And, the sun!" I continued, pointing up at the ball of light in the sky. He looked up at it too, squinting. "The sun gives us life, and keeps us warm and happy. That doesn't suck, that's pretty awesome, actually."

I then laced my other hand with his, bringing it up and pressing it against his chest. He looked at me in surprise, glancing at our hands and back up to me. 

"And this, right here," I said softly, making sure he knew I was talking about him, "this lovely, beautiful person. He doesn't suck, one bit. In fact, he's actually kind of wonderful."

All Dan did was smile, but it was enough for me. I'd kept him at bay, at least for now. He looked visibly calmer, and the smile he harboured was so real, so sincere, so honest, that it made me calm as well. I couldn't take my eyes from the absolute brightness of his smile, or how dramatically his eyes had changed; now they shone with happiness. 

When the doorbell rang, Dan was first to head toward it. I followed behind him, pride swelling in my chest. He was finally ready to tackle this, the biggest problem he'd ever encountered, something that scared him more than anything. A scare that had manifested itself into his mind, locking him out from the inside. Something that had taken his soul and twisted it in the most sickening way - he was ready to face it.

\--

I woke up a few days later to notice Dan was already out of bed. I untangled myself from the sheets, fitting my glasses onto my face and stretching before standing up, pacing over to my window to open my blinds. I was greeted by the grey, lifeless English sky, and I sighed. Another dreary day. I headed to the kitchen. 

"Morning, Phil." 

Dan's dad was at the counter, preparing his meal for the work day, already dressed in his formal work attire. I glanced down briefly at my coloured pyjama bottoms and printed t-shirt, feeling slightly embarrassed at how 'not-together' my life appeared right now. It was 10 o'clock on a Thursday morning and I'd just stumbled out of bed. I shrugged to myself, however, as this was my own home and I shouldn't feel ostracised.

"Good morning." I returned the greeting and began setting up the coffee machine. I frowned when saw that it'd already been used this morning, but not in mine and Dan's usual set up.

"How did you sleep?" I asked, readjusting the machine.

"Quite well." He nodded. "Although, I'm still not used to all the traffic." 

I shot him a sympathetic glance. "Oh, yeah, I bet that must be really different from what you're used to."

He closed the zipper on his lunch bag, then proceeding to fill up his drink bottle at the kitchen tap. I switched on the coffee machine and let it run through its processes, turning around and resting on the counter.

"You going in later today?" I asked, as he was usually gone to work by this time of the morning. 

His approachable expression then shifted to a slightly more distant one. It looked painfully similar to the one Dan had worn when he'd first found out about his mum, and I suddenly found myself wondering just how deep their emotions ran, and how much they could help each other if they opened up. 

"I'm going in to see Liz this morning."

"Oh, of course." I nodded, conveying as much sympathy as possible. I regretted bringing it up. I swallowed, awaiting his reply, watching him stand in the doorway of the kitchen. He looked like he was leaving, yet there was something holding him back. I figured I should say something else.

"Give her my love."

The coffee machine beeped, alerting me to set it up for the next step. I turned to tend to it, but I still felt his gaze trained on me. There was something on his mind, but I didn't dare ask - we didn't have that kind of relationship.

"Phil?" He finally spoke up.

"Yes?" I looked up at him, my eyebrows raised.

"Where is Dan?"

I shook my head, shrugging. "I haven't seen him this morning. He could be in the shower, or maybe he went outside."

"Outside?" He asked, shifting his weight. 

"Uh, like, for a walk." I explained. My mind was racing; it seemed like he was leading to something, but couldn't decide what.

"I see." He replied quietly, but didn't make a move. "Does he do that often?"

"Um, sometimes." I said, struggling to see where this conversation was going. "He likes to buy fresh bread from the bakery."

"Does he." 

I drew a sharp breath, willing myself to just ask him outright what he wanted. As much as I doubted myself, I managed to pluck up the courage after a few moments of strange silence.

"Is there, uh, something you wanted, Ben?" I bit my lip, anxiously awaiting his response. His eyes found mine, but I really couldn't pinpoint what he was after.

He let a out a deep sigh without warning. I frowned, he sounded so defeated, and suddenly he looked so much more honest, stripped back, like he'd finally taken down his walls.

"Why doesn't he want to visit his mother?"

Again, I should've seen it coming. I don't think I was ready to answer this question right now - not that I ever will be. I don't understand it myself. I knew Dan very well, of course, but these last weeks it's been hard to see inside his mind and interpret his signals. However, I still needed to scrounge up an answer that would suffice.

"I can't say for sure." I sighed. "But, I think he's just scared. He's afraid that seeing her is going to make the situation more real."

"But it is already real. Very real." I watched his eyes grow dark as he spoke. "She's very sick, Phil."

"I know, but I think it's more to do with the reality of it, uh, in his head." I told him sincerely. He looked grave, almost disappointed, but he still seemed to accept it.

"He's really been struggling, but I'm feeling optimistic." I added, feeling the need to add a spark of hope into the dullness of the conversation. "He'll visit soon, I know he will."

Dan's Dad just nodded, finally seeming to accept it. Maybe I had helped him to understand it a little better - after all, he didn't know anything about how Dan had been coping recently. 

"Alright. Thank you, Phil." He started out the doorway. "See you later."

"Have a good day!" I called after him, feeling a rush of relief at his departure. I heard him go down the stairs and exit the front door, locking it behind him. I took my freshly made coffee from the machine and headed over to the lounge room, settling into the armchair beside the window.

But no matter how much I tried to relax, my mind chose that moment to dwell on the emotions that had been pulsating through me whilst talking to Dan's Dad. At the time, I couldn't quote put a finger on it - but the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced that I felt awkward because it really was not my place to discuss such things. It was a family matter, and even though I considered Dan and his family a part of my own, I still felt like his mother's illness was something that I should show support for when I need to, but stay out of nevertheless.

I sighed, giving up on thinking about it, and I took out my phone for my daily social media feed. I raised my eyebrows when I noticed I had an unread text from Dan. He must've sent it to me while I'd been talking to his Dad.

From: Dan

Sent: 10:11am 

hi boo, i'm just at the bakery, i'll be home in a few minutes x

Boo. I felt myself smiling at the overly cute, almost cringe-inducing, pet name. He'd often used ironically, but these days I wasn't sure whether he still meant to or not. Still, I basked in his affection. My smile lingered with me as I typed out a response to acknowledge his text.

\--

I switched my phone off and placed it on the beside table, softly so I wouldn't wake Dan. It wasn't that late - only 9 pm - but he'd claimed to be tired, and honestly, I'd felt it too. 

His Dad was still out, however, presumably with Liz. I glanced at the time again, wondering if he was going to stay overnight at the hospital. Can you even do that, or is that just in the movies? I thought. I sighed, glancing down at where Dan was laying next to me, turned away. I reached over and ran a gentle hand through the soft locks of his hair in an effort to comfort myself. As uncomfortable as I feel with him living here, I needed to keep an open mind.

I shifted from my seated upright position to lie down next to Dan, who stirred as soon as he felt the movement. He turned over to face me, shuffling so close that I could feel his breaths on my cheek. I watched his eyelids flutter open, his dark lashes batting against his delicate, freckled skin.

"You're still awake?" I murmured. "You said you were tired."

"Oh," Dan huffed. "I was just anxious about my Dad getting home."

I frowned. "Why's that?"

He hesitated a moment before speaking, looking up at me through his lashes. "I just feel like he'll lecture me, as soon as he, uh, gets home." He shook his head in self-doubt. "It's stupid, I'm sorry."

"What are you worried he'd lecture you about?" I pressed on, already knowing the answer.

"Like, mum, and everything." He replied quietly, his eyes darting meekly away from mine. I nodded, trying to display some form of consideration, though I never could truly understand.

"Oh yeah, I get you." I told him, nodding. "It's not stupid; I see where you're coming from. And when you're ready to face that stuff, you will."

He said nothing and shrugged it off, but I could tell he considered what I'd said. However, the crease in his forehead told me he was still thinking about it.

"Realx." I instructed, and his eyes flickered to mine in surprise. I offered him an encouraging smile. "You know it's going to be okay."

He let out an exasperated sigh and turned onto his back, blinking up at the ceiling. "How can I relax? There's a good fucking chance things won't be okay."

I cast my eyes over him in sympathy, trying to gain an understanding for just how he was feeling. I shouldn't use the 'it's going to be okay' talk with him; I'm sure he didn't want to hear it right now. I decided what's best at this moment was a distraction.

"Try and take your mind off it."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" He asked wryly, still glaring up at the ceiling. 

I pushed myself up from where I'd be lying on my side and put my arms either side of his body, holding myself above him. With a smirk I placed a slow and sensuous kiss on his lips, and felt a shiver rush through my core when he didn't hesitate to reciprocate in a similar way.

He pulled away from me for a brief moment. "I see what you mean." He grinned, the expression on his face now much softer, and, dare I say it, suggestive. 

I hummed my appreciation, eager to taste more of him, moving from his lips to under his jaw, targeting the usual places which I knew always got the best response. 

His breathing grew heavier as he writhed under each scrape of my teeth, occasionally letting a moan escape him, which I could tell he was trying his best to restrain. It didn't bother me, however; it probably enticed me even more.

I felt my perception of the world outside slowly wither away - this often happened when I was with him, especially in this sense. Anything outside of us would disappear; the only thing that mattered in his world was him. I wanted to please him, to make him happy, and at this moment there was nothing I wanted more. 

So that's why I'd gotten a rude awakening when I'd brushed my hand across the all-too-familiar bulge underneath the covers, only to be interrupted by the sound of my bedroom door opening and the feeling of Dan's entire body going rigid underneath me.

\--

"I do not want to have this conversation right now."

The intensity in Dan's voice almost sounded like he was pleading with his dad not to argue with him, at least from what I heard. I whole-heartedly agreed, as well. The last thing Dan and I needed right now was this argument - but we knew it was bound to happen at some point.

Ever since his dad had moved in, the tense atmosphere that had lurked in these rooms when Dan had first started being cold and distant had only grown in intensity. I knew it had been building toward something like this, a cold and bitter quarrel between the two, even though it'd been less than a week. I'd never said anything to Dan, either, because I didn't want to scare him off when he was already so reluctant.

Still, the much anticipated spectacle was unfolding right before my eyes, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"Why, Dan?" His father shot back, his voice just as icy. "Should we have it later, when it's a more convenient time for you?"

Dan sighed in frustration. "Stop pretending you know me, you don't. Nor do you care."

I felt like this scene could have unfolded at a better time, but it chose this moment; in my darkened room, with Dan and I half naked in the bed, and his Dad hovering in the door frame. However, it was partially my fault. My longing for Dan had clouded my judgement of the outside world, and despite Dan apparently trying to alert me, I hadn't noticed that his Dad was home and tapping on the door until he'd opened it. I winced when I thought about how painful that must've been for a homophobic father, glad he opened the door when he did, otherwise it might've been more of a shock for him. 

So I continued to sit with my black pressed up against the back of the bed, clutching at the quilt drawn over my chest, while Dan sat boldly on the edge of the bed confronting his father. I'd tried searching my mind for something to say, anything, but I came up short. The matter wasn't my place - but Dan was.

"I don't care?" His dad retorted, his eyes blazing in an identical way to Dan's. "Are you even aware of yourself right now?"

"Well, I was trying to spend some time with my boyfriend. Which, by the way, has been impossible with you lurking about every other minute." I could tell Dan was close to snapping, his voice was struggling to stay calm. 

"This isn't about you and your 'boyfriend', Dan." His dad scoffed, the term boyfriend saying in a mocking way as if I wasn't in the room. I watch the two of them anxiously. They were just as fiery as each other.

"This used to be about your mother." He continued, his voice not raging now, but icy and cold. "But you've made it all about you, in your own incredibly selfish, narrow-minded way."

Suddenly, all the common sense and logical reasoning I had been holding within me snapped. No-one talked about Dan like that, no matter who they were. And if they were going to do it in front of me, they'd suffer the consequences.

"Ever stop to think about his feelings, for one second? Maybe consider the fact he's scared, vulnerable, or feeling unloved because his own father never reached out to him in his greatest time of need?" My voice was more bitter than I'd ever heard it before, but it didn't stop the anger pulsating through me. "Why would he want to associate with his own family when they don't even accept him for who he is?"

Normally I'd be too passive to say anything of the sort, but I'd do it in a heartbeat for Dan. He looked at me, his eyes wide, but there was so much relief and gratefulness in there that it assured me I'd done the right thing. I didn't even consider if what I'd said had been too harsh - I needed to do it to protect Dan.

Dan's father just watched me, saying nothing, his eyes as wide as his son's. He didn't look infuriated - like I'd assume anyone would after receiving something like that - the only expression he wore was plain astonishment. Had he really only just now come to realise these things?

The next person to speak, after a long pause, was Dan.

"I'm afraid." 

It was all he needed to say. Something in the room changed, and suddenly, now with everything out in the open, I suppose, the honesty brought a new light.

"You needn't be." His dad said, his voice now soothing and reproachful. "She's doing quite well, at the moment. I'm going to visit her tomorrow. It'll do you a lot of good to come with me."

Dan only nodded, seemingly incapable of forming a sentence. When his dad began to close the door, he turned to me and opened his mouth to say something, however was soon interrupted.

"And, Dan?" 

Dan whipped his head around look back at his dad. 

"I'm sorry for what I said, I should've thought about what you were going through." 

The gesture was brief, but very much appreciated on Dan's behalf. His dad closed the door again, nodding at me in perhaps an acknowledgement of how the hostility of what I'd said earlier had opened his mind.

Once the door was closed, the room fell dark again, along with a calm silence. We both shuffled back into bed, Dan curling himself into my side and resting his head on my chest. I stroked his hair, letting my eyes fall shut, only to have my entrance to sleep hindered again by his deep, sleepy voice.

"You've gotta stop saving my ass, eventually I'm not going to be able to repay you."


	8. Chapter 8

\- through the eyes of dan -

With my roller coaster of a short life, I thought I'd felt everything there was to feel. I believed there was nothing new left for me to experience, I'd been through every emotion and seen and felt the full spectrum of how intense they were; I'd felt highest of highs and the lowest of lows. But right now, I'd abandoned that belief entirely, because the tightness in my chest told me there was so much more out there left for me to encounter.

Never, in my entire small and insignificant existence, had I felt this nervous. Not when I'd been doing a presentation at University, in front of hundreds of peers, not in any of my fan meets ups or on stage events, not even when I'd been hosting events for big corporations. 

I never imagined that I'd feel this way sitting in a cab on a rainy Friday morning with my boyfriend and my Dad. The emotions that clawed at my chest could only be felt by somebody on the brink of death, staring down the barrel. It was paralysing, I hadn't said a word all morning; how could I, when my throat felt like it'd shrunk to the size of a straw? It was all I could do to remember to keep breathing.

Even trying to define each emotion that was flowing through me was enough to make my head spin. I caught glimpses of fright, nervousness, dread... all these things I could name, but there were so many more I couldn't put a finger on. They taunted me, their nagging voices worming their way inside my head, echoing in my ears, tugging at my heart strings, twisting in my gut. I felt a familiar wave of nausea wash over me, and the sensation of the blood draining from my face.

It took every ounce of energy I had left to stop myself from hurling at my feet, right here in this cab car. I felt my stomach convulse, and the acidic tang of stomach fluid in my mouth and throat, but thankfully I kept it at bay. I drew in as deep a breath as I could manage, shutting my eyes and falling back on the headrest, listening to my heart hammer louder and louder in my chest.

A gentle weight abruptly found itself on my thigh. I looked at it, and through my blurred vision I could make it out as a hand. I followed the length of its arm, and found Phil looking at me, his blue eyes bright against the dull rainy sky. He was saying something to me, but I couldn't quite make it out. His voice seemed to be everywhere but where I could understand it, the echo so heavy I couldn't make out a single syllable. Still, just his soft tone was enough to start bringing me back to my senses. 

I stared at his lips, making it my only task right now to distinguish what he was saying. The warmth of his touch seeped through my achingly cold body, eventually spreading to my head and clearing my mind.

"Do we need to stop the car?" 

I shook my head to answer his question. At least, I think that's what his question was. I was assured I'd got it right when he nodded, patting me gently where his hand had been. I kept my eyes trained on him, aware of his next move, as he unbuckled his seat belt and shifted into the space next to me. He pried my hand from where it was pinned underneath my leg and clasped it tightly in his. The sensation itself was enough to draw me into the real world again, where I found my Dad's dark eyes watching me from the seat in front with concern. 

"You sure?" He asked. "You don't look well."

I nodded, not even attempting to speak right now. His gaze lingered for a moment longer before turning back to look out the front window, his sigh decorated by the sound of the raindrops hitting the roof of the car, which I'd just come to notice. 

Phil leaned over and pressed his forehead to my temple. He was saying something in a hushed tone, both of his hands now engulfing mine. The warmth of his grip flowed through me and brought me an essence of calm, which briefly soothed the sickening feeling in my gut. I think he was telling me to breathe, that it's going to be okay, that I was doing a good thing and I should be proud of myself. It didn't matter too much what he said; the feeling of having him so close and his breath ghosting my skin was enough to restrain me from doing something I'd regret, like throwing up in this guy's car. 

And then he was encouraging me out of the car, and I saw my Dad was already stood outside, waiting, watching me with sad eyes. Phil was out of the car too, he'd opened the door for me and was trying to inspire me to do the same my taking my hand and tugging gently on it.

I clambered out, my Dad stepping in and shutting the door behind me, leaning all my weight into Phil as my shaky legs threatened to give way underneath me. He grunted under the sudden pressure, heaving me upright.

"Get a grip, Dan. You can do this."

His hands that were clasping me firmly started to release their grip, and I stood on my own. I knew he was right, I needed to pull myself together, but God knows I've tried. It's all I'd been trying to do this morning, but as the hospital building loomed before me, I felt a renewed sense of urgency. 

"You can do this, okay?" 

I glanced back down at Phil, his face flushed with desperation. I nodded, again, but this time more assertively. I gathered myself together, standing upright, and drew a deep breath.

"Okay." I said, hearing myself speak for the first time today. The words stung all the way up my throat, but I did it.

Phil looked visibly relieved. He beamed at me, his proud expression encouraging me to attempt the same. He began to walk forward towards the doors, his hand still clasping mine. My Dad walked on my other side, and as we got inside and joined the queue, he patted me on the back.

"I'm proud of you, son."

\--

I'd decided as I was making my way to her room that I wouldn't hover outside her door, staring at the brass number, thinking of every possible outcome that could eventuate from this scenario. It'd only make me want to turn and run, to run anywhere, anywhere other than here. 

So I think it took my company by surprise as when we arrived at her room, I entered without hesitating. They chased after me, hissing my name, but I'd already put a few feet between me and the door frame. I'd have liked to put a few more, but I stopped dead upon laying eyes on her, finally coming to a realisation.

I felt guilty.

That was the emotion that'd been consuming me today, and the primary one that'd been lurking in every nook and cranny of soul the past few weeks. I felt guilty, and the awareness as to why came at me like an avalanche. 

I'd just been bitter. I was angry at something in my life - who knows, or cares, what it was now - and I'd taken it out on her. Maybe it was the fact I never really felt accepted in school, and the only thing I had going for me were my above-average grades, but whatever it may have been, I'd somehow gone and turned it into some deluded conspiracy theory that my mum had always loved Adrian more than she loved me. She spent more time with him, seemed to take more of an interest in his life, what he was doing, what his plans were. Truth be told, that was all an illusion created by my own idiotic, deceived mind. I was so unapproachable and reserved then, no wonder she'd given up on trying to pry me open when I was clearly a closed book, and would be for the rest of my life. I briefly wondered if she'd noticed I was becoming more gracious and accepting when I met Phil, but she never had the chance to find out as I'd taken the first course I could get my hands on and run off University as soon as I could. Back then I'd wanted to escape her favouritism lifestyle, but God, what if I'd just been honest? Not only honest with her, but with myself? If I had been, I wouldn't be even remotely as fucked up as I was now.

I glanced down at my hands, unclenching my fists and staring at the crescent moon shaped indents my nails had left in the palm. I rubbed at them, just now coming back to my senses and wondering when would be a good time to address the two people standing behind me, or perhaps the woman lying on the hospital bed in front of me.

Turns out, however, if you linger on the thought long enough, someone else will talk first.

"Well, that was overly dramatic."

Her voice was so soft and gentle, like the rays of sunlight that had broken through the rain clouds, warming the puddles on the ground and the clothes on your back. It felt like the smell of the earth after a rainstorm, like the warm sunshine beaming down on you, making freezing wind gusts feel almost non existent. 

And when I looked at her, it was like all my fears had melted away; my eyes found her hazel ones across the room and I noticed how the sun was beaming through the window, making the raindrops sparkle all different colours. It lit up the room, the bland furniture now glowing in a golden haze. It cast itself across her body, making her eyes glimmer, bright, warm, inviting. Safe.

And then I came to another realisation.

She wasn't like the person I'd seen in my nightmares. Her eyes weren't sunken in, her skin wasn't washed out and paper thin, her body wasn't frail and weak. She watched me with sparkling eyes, the warmest of smiles on her face, her dainty fingers resting over her heart in delight. She glowed, like the sun itself.

Then I found myself embracing her for the first time in... who knows. So long. Too long. Her touch was so tender, I felt her dimples against my cheek as she pulled me in close, the feeling of her fingers stroking my hair; it all felt the way it used to when I was young. Feelings turned into memories, they came flooding to me and suddenly I felt 6 years old again, clutching at her skirt as she had desperately tried to shake me off and make dinner, all with her bubbly, melodic laughter. I could smell the stews or soups she'd make in the wintertime, I could hear the stomping of snow boots as my brother and I trudged inside, covered in snow, and how she'd gently remind us to take our boots off at the door. I could feel the brush of her lips after she'd cover my cuts and grazes with band-aids, and how she'd tuck me into bed at night next to a single burning candle, how she'd brush the curls out of my eyes and tell me she loved me in a soft whisper. 

"It's good to finally see you, baby." 

I looked down into her eyes, seeing the sun, moon, and all the stars in there, shining at me. I smiled at her, a real, genuine, smile, and she lifted a hand and brushed away the tears that had been trickling down my cheek without my noticing. I sniffed, rubbing my eyes, and pulled up a seat right next to her bed.

"It's good to see you too, mum." I told her. It was pathetic, but I'd thought nothing could describe how wonderful it felt to see her, so I didn't even bother trying.

"Where have you been, my darling?" She asked me, the flow of her voice so sweet and smooth, like honey. "I've missed you."

I felt a pang of guilt again, but this time, it was much more dull. I felt so overwhelmingly happy in her presence, nothing could make me feel as indisposed as earlier. 

"I'm sorry." I told her sincerely. "I should've come earlier, I'm so sorry, I've just been so... I- I was so scared-" 

I'd begun to stammer toward the end of my sentence, but she noticed my distress. She placed a hand on my cheek to calm me, nodding understandingly. 

"Sweetheart, don't be afraid. I want you to be brave." Her eyes blazed with a mother's compassion.

I could only nod at that, not being able to verbally assure her I would try to have courage, as much as I wanted to. At that point, she turned to look behind me, her features lighting up again as she greeted my two companions, who I'd momentarily forgotten about.

"Phil! Oh sweetie, it's been so long! How are you?"

The joy that carried through her words shone in her voice, making the whole room light up even more. I glanced up at Phil, who'd become slightly flushed under her affection. 

"Hi Mrs Howell, I'm doing well, thank you. How about yourself?"

"Oh honey, call me Liz, please." She told him, waving a hand. "I think you're just as much in this family as I am."

She added this last part with a glance at me, and I grinned back at her, feeling a rush of gratefulness at her faith in my relationship, very unlike my father. I briefly recalled the numerous times when I'd brought up the topic of Phil and I around my parents, how my father would shut down in denial, but how she'd always stand up for me. Even if it was in her own, meek little way, she'd do it out of her love for me.

Phil settled on the arm of my chair, resting a hand on my shoulder. The two bustled about in conversation, but my thoughts were far from what was happening in the room. I was just basking in the feeling of not being afraid anymore, and dare I say it, hope.

"And Dan, not working yourself too hard, are you?"

My mother's question brought me back to the ground, and I shook my head, smiling compliantly. 

"Mum, I make silly videos for a living." I grinned. "I can't ever work too hard."

"Oh, Dan." She scoffed. "Don't say that. You work your butt off and you know it."

I shrugged off the question, hearing Phil's modest giggles subside next to me. 

"Some days." I said. "And some days, I do nothing."

She reached over to where my hand was resting on the side of her bed and patted it, beaming.

"We all need time off." She replied, her tone level and understanding. 

"Do you two want to go get something to eat?" My dad asked, stepping forward from where he was stood behind our chair. 

I suddenly noticed the emptiness in my stomach. I hadn't eaten all day, and Phil hadn't had much either - he'd been too busy trying to coax me out of the house. I glanced at my mum, silently asking her permission to leave. She nodded, smiling, and I stood up from my chair, taking Phil's arm and guiding him to the door. 

Just before we left the room, I glanced back at her, soaking in the warmth she radiated. My Dad has settled in my chair, his hands resting over hers. Despite them already being in deep conversation, she flashed a warm smile at me as I gave her a little wave goodbye. 

\--

The cafeteria was quiet, thankfully, and Phil and I had resided at a two-person table next to the rows of floor to ceiling windows. We tucked into our meals and hot drinks, our conversation lighthearted. 

"Are you aware your dad subtly kicked us out of the room?" Phil asked, giggling as he sipped at his coffee. 

"He's an insidious man." I grinned, taking a bite of my croissant. 

Phil laughed in response, placing his coffee cup down on the table and stretching his fingers to link with mine. I glanced up at him to find him watching me intently.

"I'm really happy we came." He told me, his tone suddenly sincere. "And I'm really proud of you, for coming out here today."

"Proud of me?" I replied, trying to dodge his praise; I didn't really feel like I deserved it. "Why, because I finally got around to doing something I should've done ages ago?"

"No, because you faced your fears, Dan." He said without missing a beat, and I could see the pride shining in his eyes. "The fears that immobilised you for weeks. You overcame them, today, by walking into that room."

I held his gaze for a moment longer before sighing softly, battling my eyelashes. I suppose I had faced some degree of my uncertainty today - and I was really happy I did it, too.

"I guess. And it wasn't that bad after all." I grinned, although the humour was far from authentic. 

"She looks really healthy." Phil nodded, giving my fingers a final squeeze before wrapping them around his coffee cup again. 

I nodded down at my meal, considering his words. I'd been so afraid of seeing her in real life, of seeing how sick and deathly she looked, and how it'd make matters so much worse. It'd just confirm all my fears - I'd run out of time, and all I'd done my whole life to repay her for her unconditional love and support was live a dogmatic and fanatic lie. But when I'd looked into her bright eyes, I'd remembered how strong she was, and I'd felt a spark of hope. 

And that's when my third wave of realisation washed over me - it wasn't certain that she'd improve, but it wasn't unlikely, either. Things could really go either way, and it was up to me to fix my own mistakes. I couldn't continue to have Phil compensating for my senseless actions, or my dad looking down at me in shame, or my mum sitting in her hospital bed, missing her son and wondering why he wouldn't visit her.

I had to fix everything, before it's all, possibly, too late.


End file.
